


You've Got That

by moonsfics



Category: Bangtan, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-26
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-02-28 19:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23322706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonsfics/pseuds/moonsfics
Summary: After making a life-changing decision for your career, you're unsure of how exactly to bring it up to your boyfriend after your relationship and communication has not really been in sync.Namjoon is ready to take this relationship to the next stage, and he is sure that what he needs to ask you will be the solution to all the problems you have been having.Both know this next move is the right idea, but are unaware of how parallel those ideas really are.
Relationships: Kim Namjoon | RM/Reader, Kim Namjoon | RM/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 36





	You've Got That

**Author's Note:**

> Hey... this is a thing that happened. I started writing it when "Home" came out, so, yeah... enjoy!

House keys dangle from his back pocket, almost slipping out, as Namjoon walks across his bedroom, towards the bathroom. he stands in front of the mirror that stretches at full length—only a few inches taller than him—he looks over his outfit; tight dark blue jeans, a white shirt, and a soft pink pullover that hangs lose on his shoulders. He fingers his blonde hair, parting it in the middle and grabs for his hair lotion to curl the tips inward. Making it clean, polished, and as you would say, “ _sexy_.” Your words, not his. But he loves the way those words fall out of your lips when you look at him in that hairstyle, your fingers instinctively moving towards his hair. They make the same movements his do now as he brushes the hair to the side, but the feeling of you touching him is where it’s all about.

He hasn’t seen you in a week, and sure it’s partly because of the fight you’ve been having for the past month, but he also knows it’s his demanding job. He loves his job, even if most people don’t find it all that interesting to work at a secondhand shop, but for him it is everything. Namjoon doesn’t just work there, however, it’s _his_. At least it will be starting next week. He’s been working tirelessly, meeting people, organizing inventory, rearranging the shop, remodeling, working to change the name, and having multiple meetings with his accountant—and close friend, Yoongi. He’s been working up to this for two years, but it has been his goal to own this shop since he was a teenager who spent all his allowances buying knickknacks, albums, and clothes there.

One of his goals, upon purchasing the shop, is to start selling original stuff. Not original from him, not even from the shop itself, but from local artists and creators of the town. He wants to sell the clothes his friend Taehyung refurbishes, and sell Esme’s candles, maybe even some of Jungkook’s art. He’s had meetings for all of it this past week alone, which meant even less time with you.

“I feel like I’m being replaced by the shop, and I know it’s selfish. But I don’t think it’s too much of me to ask for just one hour or two either,” you had told him over the phone the last time you talked—four days ago.

“I know baby, I hate it too, but this is really important. The good thing is, it will eventually fizzle down, and then I’ll have more free time, okay?”

“What about when you’re the owner? What then? You’re gonna practically live there Namjoon…”

That struck a chord with Namjoon. It wasn’t the first time you said that and would definitely not be the last. He hates it every time it gets to that point because he knows that if he pushes too hard, if he is even a little sarcastic about it, then it will insight an ugly fight. Even so, Namjoon could not help himself, he was fed up. “So, what then? You want to break up?”

“Ugh, here we go again…”

“No, tell me, babe, because quite frankly I cannot read your fucking mind. What do you mean by that?”

“What I mean is, when are we going to have time to see each other! That’s all I want to know. Call me when you figure it out.”

He could tell you were also tired of fighting, so he’d welcomed the beep of the phone on his ear at the time. Now, however, he’s found the time, so he’s done with this pointless fighting. He wants to see you and propose the one thing that might fix all the problems that the relationship is facing. A relationship that has been called, by Seokjin’s willing annoyance, “too perfect to be true.”

He grins at the mirror, satisfied with his look, then he turns to place the hair product behind the mirror above the sink. He gently places it between his deodorant and toothbrush cup on the third shelf—the first two shelves empty and lonesome.

He’s ready to walk out to the bar and meet his friends, but most importantly—you.

He’s only been living in this apartment for little over seven months, and he never really got to decorating. The bathroom alone is bland with brown gradients from towels, shower curtain, and decorations he bought from the shop. His room is also decorated with things from the shop, and anything he could fit in his car from IKEA all those months ago. It took him three months to get an actual bed—his mattress lay on the ground for so long, and he was becoming used to it but your annoyance and constant complaint about your back when you slept over made him go out in Jungkook’s truck to get the damn bed frame. It was worth it though, because you were so happy about it that the both of you almost broke it that night. Namjoon would’ve driven out to get a new one if you would’ve had the same reaction over and over again.

He grabs a book from one of the two shelves in his room and heads out to the living room/kitchen. The open floor plan makes his place look bigger, and the minimal furniture and decor doesn’t help it look like someone actually lives here. But after today, this place will start looking very different to Namjoon, and he’s excited for it.

He grabs his cross body bag, shoves his book, keys, and phone in it, then walks out to the apartment complex parking lot.

The drive to the bar is short—just over twelve minutes—but it begins to get dark when he pulls into the parking lot.

He hasn’t texted you since the fight, and you haven’t said anything either, but he knows that you’ll be there, even before he spots your car parked by the entrance.

The bar isn’t crowded yet, so he easily spots the usual table with all of his friends. Almost everyone is here, except for Yoongi who’s barely coming out from work—he’d texted that he’d be meeting them later tonight. Even Esme is here, the girl works practically 20/7, and the only reason she doesn’t work all 24 hours is because Jungkook doesn’t let her go too long without seeing him—something that Namjoon should probably take notes from.

Namjoon spots Jimin and his boyfriend, Brandon, by the bar. That’s when he notices you sitting at one of the corners, talking to Jason the bartender. Jason is not the stereotypical bartender that stays quiet and listens to your problems, he talks. _A lot_. He’s not surprised to find you merely nodding as Jason goes on about something as he mixes a drink. He sees Namjoon as he walks up to the bar.

“Hey Joon, how’s it going?”

“Alright, you?”

“Terrible!” He says as he pours a drink. He shakes his head in exasperation, making his bleached hair bounce. “But I have to deliver this, so I’ll tell you later,” he says before he walks over to the other side of the bar.

Namjoon steps up between you and the bar stool beside you. He turns to look at you, but you make it obvious you’re doing everything to not look at him.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asks as he leans down, forearm resting on the bar with his body turned towards you.

Finally, you look at him, blinking a few times before you reach for the glass in front of you and take a sip through the short straw—eyes still focused on Namjoon. “I already have one.”

“After?”

You shrug and Namjoon giggles. His laugh alone makes you break the stoic expression you sport and smile.

“I hate you,” you mutter, which only makes Namjoon laugh once more.

“Well, if you won’t take a drink, how about an apartment?”

“What?” your eyes go wide and your back straightens. You slowly place the glass down. “What are you talking about?”

Namjoon reaches forward and places his large palm on your waist, gripping the warmth he immediately feels despite the fabric shirt. Instinctively, you turn in his direction, gravitated by his touch like he often is by yours. “I’m talking about you moving in with me.”

You frown and shake your head. Your eyes roam his chest as if you will find the answer there, until finally you look at him, eyes glistening with the light hanging above him. “Are you insane? We have this fight, and the solution to stop it is to have me move in?”

Namjoon smiles lightly. “No, babe, I’m proposing a solution to the root of our fight—the one problem we can’t seem to solve—how to see each other more.”

You blink a few more times. You turn back to your previous position and look straight forward at the shelves perched on the back wall behind the bar. You reach for your drink and take a few sips, eyebrows set in contemplation.

“This isn’t some solution you’ve created out of whim is it?” you ask. You turn back to Namjoon and he leans closer to you. Your eyes roam his face, and neck, until your eyes land on the necklace you gifted him for your one-year anniversary. You reach for it and fiddle with it between your fingers. It’s a small pendant, silver, and shaped like a paper fan.

“When have I ever? I’ve thought about this for a while—and part of me thought it should’ve happened when I first moved into the apartment, but you had a lot on your plate with the new job, and I didn’t want to add to the stress. So, then I figured asking on our two-year anniversary would be best, but that’s too long away…”

The smile that stretches over your lips makes Namjoon’s chest flutter. You’re still looking at his necklace. He reaches for you, brushes some hair behind your ear, and cups your face. “Hey, look at me,” and you do, “what are you thinking?”

You blink slowly, eyes staring into Namjoon’s. “Baby, I’ve had a couple drinks… can I sleep on it?”

He lets out a low, clipped laugh, “Of course. Come on, let’s go sit with our friends.”

“Wait,” you say before he starts to move. You grip the necklace and tug on it a little. “Come here, I haven’t seen you in a week,” you whisper, your voice lower, and that tone that makes Namjoon’s skin spark.

He stops leaning on the bar, using both hands to cup your face before he leans down to press his lips upon yours. The touch is gentle, at first, very small and soft movements—like trying to re-memorize the shape of your lips against his. He hears and feels when the breath escapes you, then you gasp, lips parting slightly but moving in towards him, wanting to kiss him deeper.

“How I’ve missed you,” Namjoon mumbles before his tongue carefully moves between your lips. You hum in agreement before you lean in, taking him in and kissing him more, and more.

A pat on Namjoon’s shoulder makes him metaphorically roll his eyes—or maybe he did with his eyes closed while still kissing you—but he gathers the strength to pull away from you. Your eyes are still closed, and lips puckered. It’s endearing to say the least.

“What?” Namjoon asks, turning his head to find a grinning Taehyung looking back and forth between the two.

“If you’re done sucking face, we’re gonna order some food. What do you guys want?”

“Ten seconds later, Taehyung, and I would’ve ripped your head off,” you mutter, now glaring at the man.

Namjoon stops cupping your face and stands up straight, trying not to laugh at your comment and the fact that Taehyung’s grin faded so quickly.

“Someone needs to get f—“

“Let’s go get food!” Namjoon interrupts, gripping his friend’s shoulder and leading him to the table.

You follow behind him, your hand quickly finding his and pulling up close to him.

* * *

There was no right time to say it, and you were starting to believe there never would be. Last night was no right time, not with all your friends there, and all the fun you were having. You hadn’t seen Namjoon in so long, you just wanted to bask in his warmth, his booming laugh, and his voice. Then, having his hands and body _finally_ on you on his bed was enough to make you forget about the impending news you’d been trying to tell him for weeks.

Now, there’s a question looming over the two of you, one he asked, and one you wanted to say yes to right away. There’s no way you can move in with Namjoon. You barely spend time with him as it is, and now with the job transfer you’ve been offered… it’s just not gonna happen.

When you met Namjoon three years ago, working at the shop he now owns, you never thought it would come to the day when you’d consider moving in with the tall dork who laughed too loudly and talked too much about the cultural impact of Twilight when you tried to sell him your copies. You were just going in, trying to get rid of books that were gathering dust on your shelves.

“This isn’t funny, I’m serious!” he’d laughed. “You were into these books for a reason! They defined a generation! You’re gonna tell me the Young Adult genre wasn’t kicked off by Twilight?”

You’d laughed too. “I’m not saying _that_ , I’m just saying that these books don’t mean anything to me anymore, and I’m just trying to find a better home for them.”

“Did Harry Potter have an impact on you?” He’d asked, eyebrow perched in a challenge, and a tone that sure said you were about to be shut down.

“Of course.”

“And those sit on your shelf?”

“Yes…”

He leaned onto the counter, pushed the books aside, and made eye contact with you at eye level. “Then tell me, why are you so inclined to rid of Twilight but not Harry Potter? Isn’t it because of how society has treated Twilight like a joke when in actuality, it’s had such an impact on a generation of kids that didn’t even care about reading before Stephanie Meyer had that dream! Sure, the books aren’t _great_ —“

“That’s putting it lightly—“

“Okay, yes. The grammar sucks. The storyline is questionable—“

“Questionable?!” you challenged, stepping closer to the counter. You’d ignored everything else in that shop at that point. It was just the tall brown-haired man across from you and the Twilight debate unfurling between you. “A man literally imprints on a _baby_ , that’s grooming!”

Namjoon had cringed at that, one eye twitching, with his shoulders tensing suddenly. His argument was losing traction, but he was quick to find a rebuttal.

“Okay, do _not_ go there. Think of that in the fantastical sense. He’s not sexually attracted to a baby, that would be disgusting, but their souls are paired and Jacob was to be his protector—“

“Until the baby is an adult and then they can fuck? Gross!”

He cringed again but shook his head. “Okay, you can have that point because you’re right—the whole wolf thing is just wrong on so many levels. And Breaking Dawn wasn’t that great anyways. I’m not talking about the specifics about the book though. Sure, it’s garbage at certain points, but the series being problematic does not erase the impact the books had. You’re gonna tell me you don’t remember being team Jacob and rooting for him in the beginning because he seemed the most reasonable choice—before all the wolf shit. It made people passionate about a book series since Harry Potter! But Twilight gets destroyed when it should be given more credit for what it has done. You wouldn’t have read all those young adult books you’re trying to sell if it didn’t exist, or am I wrong?”

He had talked so fast you merely stared at him in awe. Blinked a few times, then gathered your thoughts. “How did you know I was Team Jacob?”

At that, he’d smirked, raised an eyebrow that made you smile just the tiniest bit. He was satisfied with his argument because he could see he was winning, and it annoyed you in an endearing way. “Because you seem smart enough.”

“And let me guess, you were team Bella?”

“Through and through!” he boomed, a fist in the air. “Whatever makes my girl happy.”

“It doesn’t change the fact that I don’t need them anymore.”

“Look, sure they’re problematic but so is Harry Potter! JK Rowling has been nothing but disappointing, and there’s so many plot holes, so why not keep the series that defined genres, generations, and literature for young people?”

“Oh my god, fine! I’ll keep the damn Twilight books, just buy the other ones,” you’d said. Although extremely annoyed, there was something endearing about his passion, and so you’d laughed.

Satisfied, he’d grinned, then giggled a bit. The dimples indenting on his cheeks made him even more endearing and made you stare at him even more, which only made him shy away and look down at the books on the counter.

“Okay, let’s see how much we can give you for all these beauties then.”

After that, you’d kept coming back. At first it was to get new books, or to buy knickknacks to decorate your new apartment with. Then it became habit to come check out any new inventory. Eventually you met his friends who came and went throughout the days, and his coworker Taehyung who seemed to almost live at the store with Namjoon. One day he asked you out to the bar and you invited your friends Jisoo, Brandon, Mandy, and Esme. The chemistry between everyone flowed so well, that before you knew it, this group of friends you’d known all through college had expanded and you had more friends than you could count on both hands, but you grew to love them. 

Falling for Namjoon, when you really think about it, was almost expected. How could you not fall for him? He’s everything you like in a person and more. He challenges you and you’ve never really shied away from that kind of dynamic. It makes for intense fights, especially when you’re both so passionate, but it means an even more intense makeup.

This impending fight, however, might just implode and find no tracks left to make the pieces fit back together.

You wake up before him but couldn’t bring yourself to get up from the bed to make breakfast when he’s lying there, mouth open as he breathes steadily in his sleep. He looks so peaceful and quiet—like the aura he exudes. There’s always been this sort of comfort in Namjoon that draws you in. Even quiet days in with him are never boring.

Your hand moves up his naked chest and look up to watch as he stirs a bit, whining quietly. You want to kiss him, to hold him tightly. You wish you could just forget about what is to come. There’s this heaviness in your stomach, and it seems to slowly be crawling up. The fight that is coming, is like no other fight. You don’t want any heartbreak, and you don’t want to break his.

Namjoon breathes deeply and you find your hand moving up to rest against his heart.

It’s too overwhelming. The quiet beating against your palm, the chirping of the birds by the window, the quietness of the cars rushing by outside on the roads on a Saturday morning. It makes the heaviness stronger, feels like you can’t breathe.

Gasping, you sit up—careful to not wake him up. You rush as quietly as you can to the bathroom. The mirror mocks you. You look like someone who should be happy right now, after waking up from a passionate night with the lover, but instead you look miserable. Bags heavy, eyes watery, and chest heaving.

With the alcohol gone, it really begins to dawn on you. This has to happen now, before things escalate.

You reach for his toothpaste to wash your mouth, and then you see it. He’s begun to make space for you…

The sob is inevitable. Immediately, you cover your mouth and sob once more into your palm. You want to scream but can’t—the least you can do is let the man you love sleep in.

With tears, you wash your mouth.

It’s difficult to not think about last night, about how good it was, how happy. Now that you know it might be the last time with Namjoon, it hurts so much more. Did you say “I love you” enough? You know you said it… now he will probably hate you for sleeping with him when you’re about to destroy everything you both have.

* * *

A large truck honking startles Namjoon awake. “Hu?” he asks no one, just sleepily looks around as his eyes adjust to the sunlight coming in through the open window.

He turns and you’re not beside him, but he can hear commotion in the kitchen. He can’t help but smile. This can be every Saturday and Sunday morning for him—waking up before work to hear you busying yourself with something because it seems like you’re allergic to rest.

After brushing his teeth and putting some pants on, he walks out to the kitchen. You’re making something with eggs and have some coffee brewed and ready to drink in the coffee maker.

“Morning, baby,” he says, voice still laden with sleep. He clears it, but he knows it will be a while before it’s back to normal.

He walks up behind you to wrap his arms around your waist, then leans forward.

“Hey,” is all you say, leaning your cheek to his puckered lips so he can plant a wet kiss on you. He can see from here that you’re making scrambled eggs with veggies and buttered toast.

Namjoon kisses your exposed shoulder making you shiver. His V-neck shirt did always look good on you.

“At what time do you have to be at the store?”

“Hmmm, we open at 11, so in… two and a half hours.”

“Oh, okay. Go shower if you’d like. I’ll wait to eat with you.”

You’re unusually quiet, but he brushes it off as sleepiness. It is 8am after all and you both did not really fall asleep until about 3am.

When he walks into his room—soon to be your room too—his alarm goes off and he silences it. The necklace you gave him is resting by the nightstand where you left it after you removed it from him last night. He clasps it on and heads to get ready.

When he’s out, hair wet but dressed for the day, you’re sitting by the table. You’re scrolling through your phone while breakfast sits in front of you, still hot by the steam flowing up from it.

“Everything okay?” he asks as he sits down.

You look up, surprised to see him as if you hadn’t heard him come out.

“Oh, uh, yeah. Just some work stuff. Let’s eat.”

Usually, Namjoon would turn on the tv as background noise, but today he wants to hear you. He wants to talk, and he really would like to have an answer to his question before work.

As he eats, he extends a hand towards you to squeeze your thigh. It’s amazing how much he enjoys just having you near him. You’ve both been so deprived of each other’s presence for so long.

“So, what’s up, babe. Thought about my question?”

He hears you sigh before taking a bite of food. His spirits fall when he sees your expression—eyebrows slightly furrowed and lips puckered as you exhale a deep breath.

“I, uh-“

He puts his utensils down, suddenly too nervous to eat. “Look, I know it might seem like we are going too fast, and I understand if that’s how you see it, but I also think that-“

“Namjoon, I just-“

“I think that we’re really at a good place!” he says, more enthusiastic than he probably should, but he is just so excited to live with you. He has been imagining it for weeks. He wants this so badly. He knows that the both of you living together will be good for the relationship. Bring you both not only physically but emotionally together too. You clearly need more time together, and he wants you to see it the way he sees it.

“Don’t you think we need more time together?”

You frown, “Namjoon, that is all I have been saying for weeks-“

“Exactly! And I finally see it. We’re both financially stable—well mostly you because, hello, just bought a store,” he laughs, “but I think this is a good move.”

“Namjoon, can I please say something?”

The tone makes him stop, the smile falls. He’s been too enthusiastic he knows, but he just wants it so badly and he gets too excited. “I’m sorry,” he says, grabbing your hand as it rests on the table, “go ahead.”

You take a deep breath once more, then look at him. That’s when he sees it, this sadness there. You’re about to say no.

“Namjoon… I was, uhm, I was offered a promotion. I would be receiving better pay of course, my own office, and I’d be assigned creative director. I’d be assigned my own team, and I would get to make final decisions for accounts.” You say this without looking away from him, but there still is this sadness there despite just telling him something so great.

Despite the unwavering sickness that is crawling up his stomach, Namjoon can’t help but smile. He squeezes your hand and pulls it towards him to kiss it. “I’m so proud of you, that’s amazing.”

You manage to twitch a smile. “Thank you… but there’s more.”

And its then that Namjoon fully realizes why you’re not excited—it’s not that you’re nervous to bring this up because it meant you would be busier, there’s something else, and he strongly believes it has something to do with the question he asked. His insides are starting to turn uncomfortably by the silence. He’s suddenly wishes he had turned on the tv, to have at least some noise and not just the two of you breathing and trying to avoid eye contact.

“What is it?”

“Namjoon, I have to move to the capitol for this. I would be moving to HQ the branch here can only needs one creative director.”

He drops your hand while trying to process this.

This morning he thought he would be waking up every day with you, and now he finds out you’ll be-

“That’s five hours away.”

“I know.”

“It would take me ten hours to go visit you and come back.”

“Yeah.”

He realizes, when his eyes focus, that he’s been staring at his plate. He finally looks at you. You look the way he feels. “You said yes already?”

You nod. “How could I not, Namjoon, it’s what I have been working towards…”

“Right,” he shakes his head. Why wouldn’t you take it? “Of course. I just… I thought maybe…”

“I would talk to you about it first?”

He nods, unable to say much more.

“I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t not tell them yes right away. And I have been rushing to tell you this for the past week, trying my best to see you so we could talk because I couldn’t do this over the phone-“

“And that’s all our relationship has been for the past month…”

It dawns on him, like a fucking ton of bricks. 

You’re breaking up with him. You’re not taking your time to let him down easy about moving—you’re breaking up with him.

Namjoon doesn’t know what to say. He just looks at you.

It’s clear that you can see it in his eyes, the way your eyebrows furrow just a fraction, and how your lips part as if wanting to say something but unable to.

“H-how…” his mouth is dry, and there’s this sudden anger rushing up his body. He frowns, trying to gather his thoughts—all scrambled and incoherent.

“H-how could you… why would you wait until this morning to do this?” His voice is quiet, like a whisper, but there’s the serious tone, the anger laced thickly on it.

“Namjoon.” Your voice breaks at which he finds himself looking away. “I missed you so much-“

“And that’s an excuse?”

He can’t stay seated; he feels his legs shaking and has to stand. He walks a few paces away from the table. His hands are pressed to his face until he brushes them up to his hair, to get it away from his face.

“You fucked me, knowing well that this morning you were gonna break up with me?” His hands are still in his hair, but he turns back to look at you—all shame in those eyes, body coiled into itself.

You look small on that chair.

It breaks him to see the way your eyes fill with tears, glittering under the dining room light. It makes it more real, seeing you suffer. He feels it in his chest, the way it restricts him from breathing properly. His own eyes start to burn.

“H-how could I have done it last night… I-I thought that this morning I would wake up and something would come to me. A way to fix this, Namjoon. But there is no fixing. I _have_ to leave. We have to break up…” you say this with a voice so steady, it’s feels like you’re stabbing him. But your voice broke at the end, and it’s what tells him this hurts you as much as it hurts him.

“We can… we can figure something out. Just while we adjust to these changes,” he says, stumbling to find anything, any answer that allows for him to remain beside you, even if only emotionally with the distance.

“Namjoon, you just purchased a store.”

“I know.”

“I got promoted, I can’t ask for a demotion.”

“I _know_.”

You’re crying. He’s desperate.

Namjoon rushes back to the chair and reaches for your hands. He’s shaking his head, watching the tears fall from your face.

“We can’t break up-“

“Namjoon-“

“We can’t… things were so good… we just had a fight… I’ll make more time for us, I will.”

“How, Namjoon? We can’t, not when I’ll be so far away…”

“We can figure it out.” There’s this burning sensation in his throat, and his chest feels like it might implode, and it’s then when the tears begin to fall.

You let out a small sob, and he can’t help but mirror it.

Then his hands are on you, pulling you to him. You rush to sit on his lap and bury your face in his neck, crying. He envelopes his arms around you, oh so tightly. So tightly, you can’t even make out the words he whispers against your shoulder because you keep asking him to repeat himself.

Namjoon gathers enough strength to pull away from you. He looks up at your face; cheeks wet with tears, eyes red, bottom lip trembling just enough to show.

“I love you,” is what he can say.

Your eyes shut and you hiccup from the sob you try to hold back. You lean forward and press your forehead against his. He wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly as your hands move up to cup either side of his face.

“Namjoon… I love you too… I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t say sorry… not yet.”

Then he’s kissing you. You’re kissing him back. There’s sobs and tears and more “I love you’s”—each more desperate and painful than the last. Limbs entangled and hot breaths exchanged.

Namjoon doesn’t want to wait, and neither do you, so you say goodbye while on the chair. Then again on his bed—the bed you both could’ve shared for longer. It’s on the third goodbye that Namjoon’s phone won’t stop buzzing and he must answer.

He doesn’t want to leave, not when you’re holding onto his hand for dear life, but he has work, and eventually he’ll have to accept the fact that once this goodbye bubble bursts, the reason for the goodbye has to happen.

You both get dressed. Namjoon looks at you from the door frame, the moment feels fake. The sunlight basking in from the window makes your body shine bright, fuzzy— you almost look like a distant memory, appearing in his room like a nightmare. It’s so painful to look at you, because he knows there may never be a time when he will be able to look at you after making love.

Had he known the last time he looked at you with bliss, with love, was the last time, he would have made that moment last longer. Now, all he remembers is how painful it is to love you, because you’ll be gone.

* * *

To describe it as painful is an understatement. Having to leave Namjoon’s apartment after everything that happened felt like you did it under a trance. You can’t even remember how you managed to get home, but you remember feeling numb, and confused. But that didn’t compare to the pain of having to pack your life up, drive hours to get to your new place, and get settled into a new city without Namjoon being there with you for any of it. It felt like you were walking around with a part of you missing, and perhaps you are, but there’s nothing you can do about it now.

You couldn’t see Namjoon after, it would’ve been too much, and you didn’t think you’d be brave enough to walk away from him.

Of course, you love Namjoon, but having to break things off proved that you love him more than you previously imagined. It physically hurt having to hurt him like that. Even work hasn’t been able to distract you enough from everything.

It’d been a month, but it feels like it just happened yesterday. It doesn’t help that you can feel your friends having to walk on eggshells around your conversations in the chat, over the phone and Skype. Even Taehyung, who prides himself on being honest, and never shies away from saying it how it is, has watched himself from even mentioning Namjoon—even when he talks about work.

Part of it has become tiresome though, because you do want to know how he’s doing. A part of you hopes he isn’t as miserable as you, but at the same time, a twisted part of you hopes he is because that means he doesn’t hate you yet.

He probably will. You chose your career over him, of course he will hate you. He probably thinks you didn’t love him enough, when it’s quite the opposite. It’s because you love him so much you couldn’t stay together. Staying together while living so far apart was going to tear you apart and you couldn’t have that. You’d do anything to save each other from such a pain, even if it meant ending things before that love turned to hatred.

But the thing is, you don’t think you could ever hate Namjoon. And maybe he could never hate you either… at least that’s what you tell yourself.

* * *

Lorena, one of the five account managers in the agency is insistent on showing you the city. She thinks you spend too much time cooped up in that apartment of yours. She wants to show you the best coffee shops, the best bookstores, and-

“No thrift shops.”

“Oh, come on!” Lorena insist as you both make your way to the elevators. “Thrifts are huge here. Almost everyone shops there. You’ll love them, trust me! They’re not your typical small-town thrift with vintage clothes. These are hip!”

Your eye twitches at hearing a twenty-six-year-old say the word “hip” so casually. The two months you’ve been here have shown you that the lingo used in the building is strange. It’s outdated at times, but they use it like it isn’t. And “hip” seems to be a favorite among your peers.

For obvious reasons, you haven’t told Lorena about your ex-boyfriend and the shop he owns back home. Now it feels like you’ve dug yourself a grave because how are you supposed to avoid talking about him, when thrifts are “hip” here.

“Let’s just do coffee today, it’s all I can handle at this time,” you say, giving in. You step into the elevator and she presses the lobby button right as Dominic—another manager—steps in. 

“Afternoon. You both headed home?”

“Finished for the day, but I’m showing the newbie the best coffee shops,” Lorena says, giving him a small smile before slipping her phone out and scrolling through.

“Oh, hey, make sure to go to Santi’s—best chi lattes in town!” he says, turning the conversation to you.

“Oh, uh thanks, but I actually don’t like chi lattes, or chi anything for that matter…” you trail off. His smile falls and he nods.

You almost feel bad for him because he’s been trying to find something in common with you for a couple of weeks, but he can’t seem to get the hint you’re not interested.

“What is your drink?”

“In cold drinks? Plain old vanilla latte. Iced tea. For hot drinks, mainly cappuccinos in coffee, but I love hot tea.”

“Hmmm, interesting,” he says.

It isn’t. Your tastes in drinks is boring when it comes to coffee shops. But one thing you loved when going out to eat with Namjoon, was trying out new drinks. Your favorites always involved fresh fruit or tea-like drinks—that’s why Mexican drinks are probably your favorite. Nothing beats a strong Hibiscus water.

“The best vanilla lattes are at The Night Owl, I think the vibe will suit you,” Lorena says, joining the conversation again as the elevator doors open onto the lobby.

“Oh yeah,” Dominic is trying his best to be included, you can tell in the way he follows you both out, leaning towards you. “Yeah the vibe of the place is up your alley. And since you like interior design, I think you’ll really love the place.”

He saw you discussing the interior design of your apartment with Lorena and coworker Chaeyoung earlier this week, so now he thinks your passion surrounds that. You love art, as a graphic design major it’s almost crucial you do, so it’s not too much of a stretch to think you wouldn’t enjoy a good decorating project. However, he’s used this to plug himself into a conversation a few times now. Yesterday he even came into your office with the excuse that he just happened to have an interior design magazine lying around his place and wanted you to have it. The magazine looked brand new, but you didn’t say anything, even though the date for release was this month too.

“Would you like to come with us?”

You give Lorena a look, but she ignores you—she thinks Dominic is cute for you.

“I would love to!”

* * *

**Esme**

\- _Is it awful?_

**You**

\- _No… ?_

**Esme**

\- _That bad hu?_

**You**

\- _It’s just weird. The coffee place is really nice and really cool! And I wouldn’t mind just being here with Lorena, but he’s making it awkward._

**Esme**

\- _Bruh_

_\- Fake a sickness_

**You**

\- _No, he’d probably want to take me home himself. He’s nice but, you know_

**Esme**

\- _I know babe :/ you’re not ready._

**You**

\- _I actually wanted to tell Lorena about Namjoon today, maybe that’ll stop her from trying to set me up with Dominic but now I can’t say it in front of him._

**Esme**

\- _Wait why not!? Wouldn’t it make him back off?_

**You**

\- _He doesn’t know I’m single (I think) so I believe this would only make him braver we screwed_

**Esme**

\- _Jungkook just choked on his orange juice reading that_

**You**

\- _LMAO tell him I miss him_

**Esme**

\- _Jungkook—I miss you too poop head_

**You**

\- _*kiss face emoji*_

The Night Owl is nice. And Lorena is right, the vibe compliments your study/work preferred environment well. It’s not too far from the apartment complex (four blocks away and walk-able). The design is very rustic, earthy—very in tune with the whole Night and Owl theme. There’s a loft seating area above from the location where the register is located, but the wood used along the interior makes it look like everything is connected by branches. The loft an extension of the bottom floor, and not a closed off section. The tallest wall has realistic art of a forest, several owls resting on branches, and a night sky that according to Lorena, at nighttime lights up with stars and the moon.

A playlist with lo-fi hip hop, alternative rock, and soft pop music plays, the different genres creating a nice auditory compliment to the shop. And the vanilla iced latte really is perfect.

You sit with the two coworkers on some of the couches against the front windows of the place, the convivial part and much less of a work area.

“Who are you texting so excitedly. Did you leave someone back home?” Lorena asks over her cup of cappuccino.

“Just all my friends and family.” It’s been three days since you’ve even called your grandmother. Your mother and father are off traveling in England and don’t even know you’ve been promoted, unless your grandmother told them, but they haven’t mention it. Not that you have much communication with them right now, they like to travel unplugged sometimes.

“Ahh, that must suck, being away from everyone you love. Are you close to your family?”

You reach for your drink and savor the sweetness of the vanilla for a bit, trying hard not to think about Namjoon and the lattes he’d make you.

“My grandmother. She practically raised me and my brother. Our parents always traveled for work around the country. Now they travel the world. They worked hard, they deserve it, but they don’t even know I was promoted.”

“Oof, that’s sucks. My mom knows when I’m coming home before I know it.”

Dominic snorts and you laugh too. Mainly because you can’t imagine your mother caring that way. She cares, in her own way.

“And your brother, what does he do?” Dominic asks.

“He’s actually a pilot, reason why my parents can travel so much after working for the board of education. He’s married with one kid on the way, that’s another thing that hurts about moving—not being able to be there if his wife needs me, but she has her family there so I know I shouldn’t worry.”

“But still,” Lorena comforts by patting your leg, “I would hate not being there for my brother. He literally married my best friend and I can’t imagine not being there for them when they start trying. I would do anything for either of them.”

You nod, swallowing the knot rising up your throat. You’d tried not to think too much about missing your family since you moved but trying to ignore your feelings hasn’t been working in your favor lately. Always leads to loneliness and crying to your pillow. Always wishing your best friend was there to comfort you and embrace you. No matter how hard you try, Namjoon always slips into your thoughts and makes you ache. Missing him is missing your family and friends and missing them always leads to missing home—missing the one person that felt like home.

He was your best friend, lover, and family. It’s a lot harder than you thought to lose someone who meant so much… who means so much.

Sometimes you feel like you’re being ridiculous—like maybe you sound like someone has died when it’s just a relationship that’s ended. However, when you think about Namjoon and what he was for you, it feels so much heavier. He wanted to move in, and you just up and left… you lost a possible future with him.

He must hate you.

You blink a few times and your eyes focus on what’s in front of you, as if coming back from a daze. Dominic is looking at you with a strange look.

“I feel you’re used to being alone, is our intruding bothering you?”

You shake your head and try your best to give them a smile. “It’s not like that at all. I used to meet up with my friends often. My routine is just so different here, it’s still difficult to get used to not having them near.”

“One of my friends moved to Europe right after university,” Lorena says before she takes a bite from the scone she ordered. “It was so weird not having her around but still talking to her on the group chat. It’s like… something is missing from your house, and you have to keep reminding yourself its lost.” Lorena shakes her head, dark curls bouncing. Only now you realize you’ve never really heard Lorena talk about her private life with you. She’s always so bubbly and excited, that when she gets serious it shifts her demeanor so much. “If you are as close to your friends as I am, then I completely get you.” She smiles, a closed-lipped but sincere smile.

“Yeah,” is all you can say.

Dominic clears his throat. “Have you thought about making a trip up there?”

“Not really. I wanted to get settled in first. I plan to go during the holidays, and that’s not too far away.”

You have small talk from then on. Dominic talks more than Lorena, but you both don’t mind—he seems to like over sharing. It’s nice to get to know your coworkers more, and it wouldn’t hurt to make some friends while you’re here.

Weekends, since you arrived, are spent settling in and running errands. Although you probably should’ve spent more time buying things for the apartment, you stuck to necessities. It’s badly furnished, if you’re being honest. It’s a loft apartment, so you only really had space for a small table, the bed, kitchen appliances, and bathroom necessities. You have a tv on a console table, a futon couch, and a bookshelf for entertainment, but even those things weren’t bought with a design or cool scheme in mind. You wanted to decorate, even circled some things you liked from the magazine Dominic had given you, but something is off.

It’s the first weekend you have free of errands, but you’re trying to distract yourself with work because you don’t want to allow yourself with your thoughts for long.

Something isn’t allowing you to care enough to decorate the place and make it homey. It’s not work, you love work. Your team is amazing, and they’re about to finish the first project you’re in charge of. The firm has been hired for a lot online and social media ad campaigns for different shops opening around the town. The creativity that has been driving the project has been flowing beautifully. You’ve got no complaints career wise.

But something is off.

Brandon’s words ring in your ear. “ _You can’t just leave, just like that? You_ just _broke up! You need time to heal, time to wallow_.”

Jimin had tried to convince you as well, even offered you their apartment after your lease was up, but you couldn’t. You had to get away from the town. All your belongings were shoved into boxes, you said your goodbyes and left.

There’s one box that was never un-boxed, however.

You close the laptop in front of you and look out the only window in the apartment. It overlooks the park between this and the other apartment complex, more luxurious and bigger than these—you’ve noticed families live there. The sun is just beginning to warm up the city, probably just past noon. There are kids playing outside and food carts have just begun to open. 

Sighing, you walk over to the built-in closet and take out a printer paper box—one you got from work after the head of the department had gone out shopping for paper in bulk. You sit by the closet on the floor, and carefully open the box.

It feels like you’re being pricked with needles in your chest. A sort of wave that arrives suddenly but moves slowly. There’re the Twilight books. Several envelopes—letters he’d written you over the years. Small gifts. A small transparent box homes a stack of train cards.

You traveled to small towns a lot so you could get inspiration, and to the capitol once. There wasn’t much sightseeing, Namjoon only wanted to go to the museum and to the park attached to it. He’d initially planned to come because someone offered to sell him some vinyl’s, and since he started collecting some when he decided he eventually wanted to buy the thrift shop and sell his own findings, he was excited to come.

There’s some of his shirts, some books, and knickknacks he’d left at your place and you never gave back to him. You were too afraid to go see him. You take out the transparent box, the books, the envelopes, a music box he’d gifted you (shaped like a piano) and small prints. There’s some packing tape left from when you began packing, so you grab that from one of the kitchen drawers to seal the box.

After pulling on a jacket, you grab your bag, the box, and lock up. You’re trying not to think too much about it, just letting your feet do the walking while your head rushes with fears and thoughts. Mostly fears.

The rustling of the town is a quiet distraction as you make your way to the train station. Skateboarders flash by you, kids run away playfully from their family when they’re just trying to have a picnic, and people with carts call out to announce what they’re selling.

The station isn’t far, about four blocks south. The next train back home leaves in ten, as soon as you pay for a ticket you rush down the escalators to catch the train, making sure to hold on tightly to the box.

Several of your friends text you, but you try to avoid the fact you’re on a train as much as you can. However, an hour into the ride you call your grandmother.

“Hey Granny!”

“Hey darling, how are you? I’ve been meaning to call you, I just got off the phone with your brother and he’s about to get on a flight back home.”

“I’m good gramma, how’s the ankle?” She’d twisted it last week—had she not been with friends it could have been very dangerous.

“It’s good, good. It’s healing. Don’t worry about it. Esmeralda and Rosa came earlier to bring me some chicken soup. You shouldn’t have told them…”

“Please Gramma, Rosa loves you. Esme just told her grandmother your name and it was enough to get her worried. Hey, I have a favor?”

“Anything darling.”

“Is it okay if I stay at your place tonight?”

“You’re coming over? Oh, my goodness! You shouldn’t worry!”

“No gramma, I promise its not because I’m worried-“

“It better not be, I don’t want you spending so much money and time to make a trip here just to check on my silly ankle.”

“It’s not silly, and no Granny, I promise. I have something important to do.”

The train finally takes off, away from the city and into the fields that separate miles between the next city and the capitol. Fields of green spread to the horizon. The sky is clear and the sun bright.

“Oh? Did you need your brother to run an errand for you?”

“No, I just… I have some things to return to someone.”

“Oh.” She doesn’t have to ask, and you’re grateful she doesn’t. “You’re welcome to stay tonight honey. I’ll call your brother in a couple of hours and tell him to bring Daria for dinner. They’ll love to see you too.”

“Thank you, gramma, can’t wait to see you all.”

* * *

Namjoon wanted nothing more than to close the shop and go home, but this pair of teenagers had been browsing for a while and he felt bad kicking them out. They clearly cared a great deal about what they bought and wanted to be careful. He heard them arguing a few times about different items and why one thought it’d be worth it and the other didn’t.

Taehyung sighed and stepped from behind the counter to go and turn the open sign to closed.

“You can go.”

“No, I’ll wait.”

“It’s fine Taehyung, I have to do some inventory after I close the register, it’s fine.”

Taehyung’s eyes go small, trying to analyze Namjoon’s words. All week he’s been insistent on waiting for Namjoon. Possibly even before this week, but Namjoon only seems to be able to take a week at a time. He’s busied himself so much with work, he’s barely had time to realize how much his friend has been worrying. Probably all his friends. He’s barely met up with any of them since the breakup—how can he? He feels pathetic. You’ve probably been updating them about her new life in the city, while he’s here, moving about, missing you, and trying not to think too much about what you left behind in him. So much of you surrounds him that’s its difficult not to think about you. Even when he thinks he’s not missing you, he is.

All that time spent apart because of each other’s respective jobs seems pointless now. The breakup only made him realize that even when you weren’t physically with him, there were still texts, and calls, and he had the pleasure of knowing you were with him and loved him.

Now, he has nothing. Not even an argument to look forward to.

“Yeah well, you said ‘fine’ twice, so I’m obligated to ignore you now.” He walks back to stand next to Namjoon. “Besides, Yoongi said to not leave you alone on Saturdays, so we’re going to the bar after this.”

Namjoon sighs, he knew something was up when Yoongi kept messaging today. “I’m gonna be fine. I have things to do at home anyways.”

“You have to come; everyone is going to meet.”

“Maybe another time, Taehyung. I honestly feel like I need to be alone for the first time in a while. I know it’s obvious I’ve been trying to distract myself.”

The teenagers finally make their way to the register, still some whispering exchanged while they point at the items they decided on.

“You really think I’ll get away with showing up without you?”

Namjoon gives him a look, at which Taehyung sighs and steps out from behind the register.

“Found everything you were looking for?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry we took so long. Won’t happen again.”

“It’s all good.” Namjoon gives them a small smile before he starts ringing up their items.

“Fine, but if Yoongi drags me to your place at midnight don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

An hour later, Namjoon is finally home. The routine is so ingrained in his body, it’s become a ritual. Even when he’s back from grocery shopping—or any other errand—he does the same. Takes off his shoes. Turns on the tv for some noise. Grabs a cup of water. Goes to the restroom. Washes his face.

Although the empty shelves on the cabinets he’d prepared for you have stayed as he’d left them. He can’t help but leave them to mock him. He knows he needs to eventually start moving on, but if he fills up what was once supposed to be yours, he feels you’ll start to fade. He still remembers what you sound like and what you taste like… he feels pathetic.

Even Yoongi said he was being dramatic, acting as if you’d died. But in a way, a version of you he knew, has. The version that was in love with him. Happy with him. Was prepared to be with him forever.

Guess a forever together was short lived.

As he leaves his bedroom to make himself the same sandwich that he’s been having for dinner this entire week, there’s a knock on the door.

Namjoon sighs, and just as he begins to swing the door open, he starts complaining. “Honestly Taehyung, I’m not going to the bar!”

But it’s not Taehyung.

It’s you. Wide eyed, a bit red around the cheeks, and clutching a box just barely tapped closed. You manage to make eye contact with him for a beat before looking down.

“Not Taehyungie...”

Namjoon thinks he stopped breathing. He’s like halfway to a gasp, but instead exhales deeply like a sigh. It hurts, that’s a given, but it’s you.

“Hi, I-I thought it would be Tae, he’s been... yeah, hi.” He doesn’t know what to do, he just stands there, arms hanging by either side of him while he looks at you and you look at the floor.

You clear your throat and finally start looking up, but not at his face. “I-I was at h—I was in my apartment, unsure of what to do, and there was this box,” you tap it softly, “and i remembered I never got the chance to give the stuff to you.”

“Stuff?”

“Yeah, umm, it’s your stuff,” you look behind him into the apartment. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah of course, sorry.”

Namjoon steps aside and you walk in but stop right before reaching the living room and look at the dining table.

“I-I never got the chance to drop of all the things you had at my place.”

You extend the box out for Namjoon.

It’s strange, to look at you stand in the middle of his apartment with a box of his things. An image he’s never imagined, and lucky to have never seen in his nightmares.

“Oh, well, thanks.”

It’s like he has stepped out of his body and is looking at this exchange. He feels numb when he takes the box from you and you won’t look at him.

“There’s still things here, do you want to take them?”

Finally, you look at him, and it makes his heart hurt. “Oh, right... sure.”

“Let me just empty the box and you can use it.”

You follow him into the bedroom and quietly look around while he takes the stuff out. Once the box is empty, you walk around picking up your things, clearly remembering perfectly what parts of this place store your belongings. When you walk into the restroom, his phone rings.

He’s too busy looking at you that he forgets to check who’s calling before answering.

“Dude, what the fuck?!”

“Yoongi?”

“Get your ass _wait wait-_ “ he bursts into laughter at someone on the other side of the phone, _“stop it, no no_!”

“Yoongi?” There’s music in the background, and he can hear his friends laughing and talking.

“I swear Jungkook, get that shit away from my face! Namjoon! Get your ass over here! You are not missing a bar day.”

“I can’t, I’m busy.”

“Doing what? Eating a sandwich and watching _How I Met Your Mother_ reruns?”

“I regret ever telling you that.”

“Come on, Joon, you need this, get over here.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t.”

“What do you mean?”

Namjoon can hear Taehyung shouting at Yoongi’s phone for Namjoon to get over there.

“Uhh-“

“I think I got everything, Namjoon.”

He turns and you make an apologetic expression when you notice he’s on the phone.

“Is that who I think it is?” Yoongi practically shouts in his ear. “Pass the phone Namjoon, pass the phone!”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers to you before extending the phone, “He heard you.”

“He?”

You put down the box on the bed but take the phone without question. “Hello? Oh Yoongi...”

Namjoon can vaguely make out Yoongi’s voice ranting.

“I-I know, yes... I miss you guys too... please don’t say that, Yoonie.”

Namjoon feels a bit weird standing there and listening to your conversation, but he’s unsure of what else to do other than wait for his phone.

“I didn’t know I was coming over until five hours ago.”

 _So, she came on a whim_.

“Okay, okay, fine, yes. I will. _We will_ , okay.” You hang up and look at Namjoon a little embarrassed. “He demands we meet them at the bar.’

“Are you serious? Sorry.”

“Yes, and no, _I’m_ sorry.”

“No,” he insists as he takes his phone back, “I shouldn’t have given you the phone, he’s drunk already.”

You laugh a little, the sound makes his heart skip. He’s thought about everything he misses about you, but he’s forgotten about the laugh. The small, breathy laugh, like half a thought.

“I can drive us?”

The drive is painful and awkward. Silent. Namjoon tries to drown it with music, but he can’t help his senses from being hyper aware you’re in his car. He sneaks a look every now and then—even feels you looking at him at times and it makes his neck hot.

When he pulls up at the bar parking lot, he turns off the music and turns to look at you once the car is parked.

“If you want to leave early, I won’t mind. I can even try to leave soon if you want to spend some time with them.” He studies your face. You bite over your bottom lip nervously while staring at the bar.

“That won’t be necessary, Namjoon,” you say quietly. The sound of his name on your lips makes his insides turn. “They’re your friends too. We should try... right?” You look at him, eyes a little a watery and it makes something become lodged in the back of his throat.

All he can do is nod, then follow you into the bar.

* * *

“You’re back!” a very drunk and emotional Taehyung shouts right before he engulfs you in the tightest, most suffocating hug ever. He begins to cry into the hug.

“Oh, hey no, Taehyungie don’t cry!”

“I’ve just missed you so much,” he sobs once he pulls away. His tears are as real as the bloodshot eyes from the tired drunkenness.

“I think you’ve had enough tonight, Tae,” Esme says before she nudges him aside to bring you into another hug.

It’s a lot of hugging. Some Jungkook pretending like he wasn’t crying, and a drunk Yoongi trying to make things less awkward between you and Namjoon. He tries, and you appreciate him for it, but it’s hard enough having to see him talking to your friends and pretending to smile. It’s obvious those smiles aren’t real, or at least genuine enough to believe he’s having fun. It hurts to see him like that, it hurts so much you find it hard to have fun too.

Even though you’ve missed your friends and want to absorb as much time with them as you can, it’s been a tough night. You knew going to Namjoon’s would be hard, but you never imagined you would cry, even if a little. Seeing him stand there in his apartment after so long, hurt so much, like someone took your heart and twisted it. It was hard to even look at him. However, the thing that took you over the edge, that broke you, was going into the bathroom to pick up some of your things. He hadn’t moved anything from the cabinet above the sink, but you decided to check the shelves behind the mirror. Half the shelves were still empty, the space he had made for you. The space he clearly hadn’t brought himself to cover. It hurt like hell. He must hate it, living there without out. You completely ruined his own home and you hate yourself for that. He deserves better. So much better.

He catches you staring and it’s probably the first time today you’ve had direct eye contact. It’s like his dark eyes get somehow darker, but softer. He can probably see it your eyes too, the sadness of being so close yet so far away. You try to smile, and he does too—just a soft indent of his left dimple. That’s enough comfort for you. Maybe what you and Namjoon had in any romantic way is gone, but there could be some amicable atmosphere. For the sake of all your friends.

Brandon’s and Jimin’s booming laughter bring you back to the table and the people around you. They’re having some intimate conversation, Jimin is pink around the cheeks and has that flirty look on his face that made Brandon fall for him so hard he would write essays to you about how much he was falling for him. You can’t help but smile at them. It’s hard not to be a little jealous, but you’re glad the other couples in the group are doing so well. A drunk Jungkook is sitting on Esme’s lap who is lovingly brushing his hair, and Hoseok and Mandy are trying very hard to pretend like they’re not hooking up (it’s kind of adorable).

“How’s the love department, Taehyung?”

The drunk boy snorts before taking another sip from his cup. “I was hooking up with this guy, Leo, turnssss oouuut he’s Sasha’s ex. A fu-cking nightmre,” he says, hiccuping, the last bit fading into a laugh.

Jin chokes on his drink and stares at Taehyung, “Sasha?”

“Who’s Sasha?”

“Oh, we forgot to tell you about her!” Esme shouts from across the table.

“Taehyung was obsessed with her for a solid three weeks,” Yoongi says.

“Oh my gosh, did you date her?”

Taehyung, with a mouth full of beer, nods.

“Dude...” Namjoon says, the amusement in his voice makes you turn to look at him and are happy to find him grinning before he takes a sip of his drink.

“Worsss part? I actually liked him more than I ever liked Sasha.”

“Oh, I’m sorry buddy.” It’s hard to hide the amusement but you stretch for his hand and he eventually grabs it in an angle that doesn’t hurt.

“How’s work? The city?”

You turn your attention to Jin beside you, giving him a soft smile, glad he didn’t ask you anything regarding love. Probably shouldn’t have brought the subject up in the first place. Granted, Jin is not the type to ask often about this—not because he doesn’t care about his friends’ romantic lives, Jin has always been a great listener. It has more to do with him being aro-ace and not valuing such relationships as much.

“It’s amazing... the city is great, and for work we’ve gotten to see a lot of it because they like to have work dinners a lot.”

“Ahhh, busy using those business cards then?” Yoongi says as he raises his drink towards you like he’s making a toast, “Respect, babe.”

You raise your drink to him and nod, pulling the most serious expression you can muster.

Jisoo arrives and screams when she spots you. She practically cries as she sits on Jin’s thigh to talk to you. The older man manages to get her off him so he can go find another chair. You’re glad to see they’ve gotten so close—turns out these two have some distant relatives and it was all over the chat about a while ago.

“How’s the shop, Joon?”

Namjoon turns to Jin, a bit startled that he was called. You feel guilty suddenly, if you weren’t here, he’d be conversing with them naturally, maybe.

However, they are your friends too, and you missed them almost as much as you miss him, so it’s natural you want to soak up as much of them as you can before you have to leave.

“It’s good. Esme’s candles have been selling like hotcakes.”

“Like hot candles!” Taehyung shouts excitedly.

Namjoon chuckles, “Yeah. And Tae’s designs too. I’m running low on books, so if anyone needs to, I’m opening book buying again next week.”

At this, you turn to him, and for the first time since you walked in you speak directly to him. “I left quite a lot of my books at my gramma’s; you can take them if you want. Just let her know when you’ll be going for them.”

Namjoon’s a little surprised you spoke to him, eyes a little wide, and you think you catch his lip twitch upwards before composing himself. “Thanks, I might take you up on that.”

It’s as if everyone else breathes, and suddenly the conversation opens, and everyone jumps in to talk. Even if Namjoon doesn’t speak directly to you, he speaks more, and you feel comfortable.

In the midst of a fit of laughter, when Jin has finished recounting what happened to him at the amusement park last week when he took his nephew for his birthday and decided to feed him funnel cake before a roller coaster ride, your phone dings with a text from your grandmother.

“Shit, I have to go, guys.”

“NOooo!” Taehyung shouts, “Boo!” he adds, enforcing his statement by throwing a couple peanuts at you.

“Come on, you just got here!”

Esme grabs Jungkook by the bicep.

“I have dinner with my brother and grandma, I’m sorry.”

“Ughh, hate that we have to share you,” Yoongi mutters before taking a sip from the cup he’s been nursing.

You chuckle, “I know, sucks I have relatives.”

He laughs, “You know what I mean. We haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I know.”

“Next time, you better tell us with ample warning that you’re coming, so we can plan something,” Jimin says, pouting at the end.

You round the table to smooch him and Brandon on their cheeks. “I will, promise.”

“Wait up for me, yeah?”

“Will do,” you say, giving Brandon another smooch. He’s your grandmother’s neighbor, and the reason why you have been blessedly stuck with him as your friend since childhood.

You kiss almost everyone. Yoongi pulls himself away making a face, but when you hug him, he holds you so tight he squeezes the air out of you.

Yoongi is Namjoon’s best friend, although he would never say that out loud, and probably because he is still unaware of it himself. Namjoon, like you, is not the type to give your friends labels. Your friends are your friends, and they’re so close to you they are practically family. But it’s inevitable to make such different bonds with each of them. You love them all, but your love and even friendship with each is unique. But if there had to be labels for how Namjoon and Yoongi are friends, it would be best friends. Yoongi knows Namjoon, probably better than you do, and that’s saying a lot. Naturally, that made you become closer to Yoongi, bonding in a way you feel lucky Yoongi has allowed you to. Yoongi is particular about his friends, Namjoon once said. He doesn’t just let anyone in, and as Yoongi’s hugs gradually became less awkward and warmer, even strong, you realized he was trusting you more and more.

When things ended with Namjoon, you feared Yoongi would garner some resentment for you for hurting his best friend, but you didn’t think it would hurt him so much that you were leaving. Two days after you moved, he called you after you’d been crying on the mattress that rested on the floor at the time. He let you cry, comforted you, and reminded you that you were going to be okay. Not once did he mention Namjoon, and it was then you realized he cared about your friendship outside of your relationship with his best friend.

“Love you, Yoon.”

“Same, babe. Call if you need anything.” He kisses your head and makes a face before he sits, chuckling to himself for his silliness.

You’re unsure of how to say goodbye to Namjoon when he suddenly stands.

“I’ll take you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to-“

“It’s no problem, I have an early day tomorrow. Besides, your stuff is still in my car.”

You stand there, awkwardly a couple steps from him. For the first time you catch his scent and you gasp softly. The scent is too familiar, too special. It fills your lungs and disorients you a second, unsure of what to do standing so close to him. There’s the perfume he wears, sure, but it’s also mixed with that Namjoon staple scent. Sandalwood. No matter how many times Namjoon has changed cologne, that scent remains from the candles, the body wash, and oils he’s used over the years. It’s ingrained in his skin, strong and beautiful.

You realize you’ve been staring where the collar of his shirt meets his skin and you look up, embarrassed, only to find he’s been staring at your neck. You feel your cheeks hot.

Nodding, you take a step back before walking past him to the door, waving at your friends.

It’s a quiet drive. Namjoon plays soft music from his phone through the aux cord and you busy yourself with looking out into the city you grew up in. You’d forgotten how much you miss it, even the simplest things. Like walking the four blocks to the shop near your grandmother’s, or even seeing that Chinese food place you loved to eat from. You even miss driving through these streets, something you never thought you would actually feel nostalgic for.

When your grandmother’s house appears, your brother’s car is parked in the driveway, so Namjoon stops right in front of the house. He turns the blinkers on before turning to look at you, causing you to feel suddenly nervous.

For some reason, the moment makes you remember the first time he drove you home—to the old apartment—after the first date. You were so nervous. You wanted to invite him in but weren’t sure if he’d regretted the date after all. You’d been friends for so long, and you wanted to make sure this was right, so not to interfere with the relationships your mutual friends had began building. You’d kissed a few days before, and you remember feeling like your body had been lit with a match. Your pull to Namjoon became so much stronger after tasting his lips, that when he’d gone the whole date without even asking to kiss you, you’d grown nervous. Maybe you liked him more than he liked you?

Namjoon probably feels the opposite now. You realized earlier he no longer wears the necklace you gave him, and although it hurts to think about, it’s natural that he wouldn’t. You wouldn’t be surprised if he thought you hate him, but you don’t think you can handle being that honest with him anymore. You can’t share how much you miss him, how much you love him, and how much you don’t want to drift apart. But he deserves better, that much you are sure of.

Namjoon clears his throat and you blink, unaware that you’d been staring at him. “I-I think that... I think that we can try to be friendly, you know. For their sake?”

Your stomach twists, this sudden air fills your lungs and you feel tears might begin to fill your eyes. You will them to stay back. You can’t handle crying in front of him again.

“Um, yeah... I-I agree. We should try. They deserve for us to make sure the friendships aren’t broken.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches at the corner. He nods. “Yeah.”

He turns to look straight in the distance, hands resting on his lap now while he fiddles with his fingers. He’s silent for a while, but you feel the tension so heavy in this car. It pulls you down and keeps you glued to the seat.

“We were friends once, you and I.”

“We were.”

He turns back to look at you, “It shouldn’t be too hard should it?”

All you can do is shake your head, agreeing with him.

His eyes are glassy, his expression suddenly changes, and it causes your heart to yearn for him. You want to reach forward to grab his hand, to comfort him in any way. The hand that rests on your lap twitches for him. 

“I think I will always care for you, and I want us to be okay so that they don’t have to worry. I want you to continue being friends with my friends, just like I want to continue being friends with your friends.”

“Joon, I want that too.” Your voice is hoarse from the will power you have to use to prevent from crying right now. “I’ll always care for you too.” Your voice is but a whisper.

Namjoon smiles lightly, blinking slowly and making a courteous expression, like he’s only smiling because he thinks you’re only saying this to be nice.

“Then it’s settled. Let’s try to be friends.” He smiles, a bit more genuine now but still lacking heart.

Nodding, you go to open the car door. “Do you want me to bring out the books for you?”

“Ah no, it’s fine. Another time will be fine.”

You nod once more and step out. Before closing the door, you lean down and say “Thank you so much Namjoon. It was nice to see you, really.” _Painful, but nice, nonetheless_. Then, you start walking away.

You have no time to process the conversation in the car because as soon as you step inside the house you’re hugged and spoken to. Your grandmother notices the lack of interest in the conversations with your brother and sister-in-law but doesn’t do much more than brush your hair and kissing your head from time to time.

“So when can we go visit you?” your brother asks over tea. His wife, Daria, sits beside him, tired out from the conversation and just leans onto him, rubbing her belly while she looks expectantly at you.

The smile that spreads on your lips while looking at them is inevitable. “Whenever you two are ready Pub.” He got the nickname “Pubber” when he was little, something to do with a puppy and his toddler self unable to pronounce the word. Ever since you acquired speech, you’ve only referred to your brother as Pub for short. “I’ll sleep on the futon and you can sleep on my new bed.”

“You finally got a bed!”

“Yes, my back is thanking me.”

With the comfort of the tea, the conversation starts to die out, and when both your grandmother and Daria begin to drift off, your brother decides it’s time to go.

* * *

The group chat was back to its normal groove. Not necessarily back to being as excited and active as when your relationship with Namjoon was alive—it’s clear your friends still feel the need to avoid certain topics—but there was a flow of conversations every day. It’d been two weeks since your impromptu journey to the hometown and you felt lighter. There wasn’t so much pressure on you, and not as much guilt when talking to your friends. Although hearing Namjoon say he will always care for you hurt like hell, you’re thankful he felt the same way about the friendship. For the sake of the group, and for both your sake.

There was a beautiful close friendship between you once, and it will probably never be like that again, but the idea of not having Namjoon in your life is a thousand times worse than only having him as a friend. Maybe never again as a best friend, but a friend, nonetheless.

You haven’t been able to get him out of your head, however. It’s a natural effect, you tell yourself, of course you would be thinking of him after being near him after so long. His scent is so present in your mind. After living here for a while, his scent, and his touch, had become a memory—one you held onto tightly, but with every day you went without seeing him it grew fainter. But after being near him, it’s so strong again. It makes your heart ache for him.

Work has helped distract you once more, with a new project that was handed to you it’s easy to lose yourself in the designs and social media campaigns for promotion. But you know you can’t depend on work to distract you from your feelings. It’s not healthy.

It’s midnight, the apartment is pitch black, and your mind wanders to him, your friends, and home. This town is great, you love your job, but you miss them. In this world, you can’t have everything, and unfortunately you had to choose between the most important things in your life, and you chose your career.

On the bedside table, your phone dings and lights the corner of the room with the notification. It’s him.

**Joonie**

\- _you awake?_

**You**

\- _yeah, why?_

**Joonie**

\- _i dont know..._

_\- i don’t know why it has taken me this long, but... i think we should talk._

Your stomach churns, suddenly fearful of the tone of the texts.

**You**

\- _oh, about?_

**Joonie**

\- _the breakup. I know we fought that day before all the, well you know..._

_\- and we talked when you were here about being friends, but we never really talked, you know? About what happened._

Suddenly you feel like crying. God, you were awful to him. Just sprung the break up out of nowhere and finally he wants the opportunity to discuss it, and all you want to do is cry because you feel awful about everything that happened. You didn't want to break up, but you knew it was inevitable.

**You**

\- _I got a job offer, Namjoon. I took it. That’s what happened._

_-and I know I handled it awful, but we couldn’t get in touch with each other._

**Joonie**

\- _Yeah, but you didn’t even want to discuss it. You just broke up with me and expected for me to take it without a fight. I know we were having awful communication but I just..._

_-can I just call you ?_

**You**

_\- right now?_

**Joonie**

\- _yeah, I know it’s late, but I have a lot on my mind, and I feel like if I don’t tell you now, I never will_.

You wait a bit to reply, try to gather yourself and wipe the tears away before agreeing. When the phone rings with his call, your heart skips a beat and you fumble frantically to sit up. The nerves rise up, bubbling at the tip of your fingers when you reach to answer.

“Hey,” he says, his voice is laden with sleep and it makes your insides spark. You picture him sitting on the couch of his apartment—he always walked out of his room to make a call. Legs parted and head resting on the back of the seat as he looks up at the ceiling, contemplating his next words.

But maybe that’s not who Namjoon is anymore. Maybe he stays in his room now. Maybe he’s not even in his own place.

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry it’s late.”

“No worries, wasn’t going to sleep for a while.”

“Oh, okay... I don’t know where to start.”

He’s silent for a bit, all you hear is him breathing softly on the other side.

“It’s okay,” you whisper, “just tell me what you’re feeling.”

He makes a sound—almost like a scoff, but softer, yet stronger than a sigh. “I feel like shit, when I think about us.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.”

You sigh, trying your best to push down that burning sensation at the back of your throat. “I handled it wrong. I should’ve waited until we were in sync, but I just... I didn’t think...”

“That we’d ever be in sync again?”

“Yeah...”

You’re both silent for a while longer. Your eyes have grown accustomed to the darkness, and the silhouette of light against the curtain from the window makes it easier to look out into your apartment. You stare at the futon.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“Why didn’t you ask me if I wanted to try long distance?”

Your stomach churns at that. The burning sensation at the back of your throat grows and you want to scream. You bite down on your lip to prevent yourself from doing so.

“Because,” your voice breaks, “I couldn’t. It was hard enough, that distance between us the last weeks, there was no way I could handle you and I being together while living so far apart...”

“We could’ve tried...” his voice is breaking too, but like a whisper breaking with each word. 

“I can’t.”

“Why?” He’s crying.

You’re crying.

“Namjoon... this is what I’ve been working for, just like your shop,” your voice is a mess, trying to keep your crying quiet, “this position is what I’ve always wanted. I can’t... I didn’t want to be tethered to a relationship with someone that I’d rarely see, especially because there was no way you’d move here with me.”

“But-“

“I don’t know where this position will take me, Namjoon, I can’t do that to us. Not when you were ready for us to move in, and I still have a lot of growing to do, career wise.”

He clears his throat and you hear him sniffling, probably doing the same as you as you reach for the box of tissues on your nightstand to wipe the snot.

“I get it, I do. I just wish it wasn’t like this.”

“Me too.”

“I think I’ll always love you, you know?”

It feels like he’s reached into your chest and squeezed. You let out a clipped gasp, one that, perhaps if he’d been looking at you, he’d mistake for a sob. But maybe it was one. Your emotions are so muddled, you’re unsure exactly how you’re reacting.

“Me too. I think I’ll always love you, too.”

“I should let you—I should go, so you can sleep,” he whispers, his voice much quieter than before.

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, I will see you around, I guess. When you’re here.”

“Yeah.”

And just like that, the idea that your heart couldn’t possibly break more is awfully incorrect.

* * *

Lorena, despite your better judgement, had managed to convince you to agree to one of Dominic’s advances. You finally went on a date with him.

It was bland to say the least. A typical, office coworkers date. He picked you up in his fancy car, took you to a restaurant where he had to make a reservation. You had drinks first at the bar, then were seated to order from a menu in which prices ranged on the expensive side.

You are aware Dominic has money, he’s practically lavished it enough around the office, so he didn’t have to make such a showing of it. But he clearly wanted to impress you. You didn’t mind of course, the dinner was good, and the conversation was lively—and he surely likes talking about himself, but you surprisingly are yet to be annoyed by this trait of his. You prefer not to talk. The less he knows about you the better.

After the date, you had it clearer than ever that he was just not for you, and it would never happen with him. You couldn’t even bring yourself to invite him up to your apartment. Of course, you have needs, and there’s nothing for you to feel bad about since your relationship with the love of your life ended months ago, but you aren’t even attracted to him at all.

It didn’t hurt to try, you’d agreed because you figured maybe you were missing something (especially since Lorena kept insisting you had no idea how lucky you are to have a man like him after you). He’s good looking, with money, but lacks... personality. Individualism. He’s just another handsome man in a suit who enjoys the luxurious and intelligent conversation. There’s nothing wrong with that, obviously, but you prefer someone who can go from having an invigorating conversation about the lack of empathy for sea creatures and the disgusting parasites killing shrimp, to the idiotic and quite frankly infuriating decisions made for the _How I Met Your Mother_ final season and disappointing finale (one you refuse to re-watch to this day!).

In other words, you’re pathetic because you still miss Namjoon. When you think you can start moving on, you find yourself popping open the blue ray DVD player and watching Twilight again, only to go on a spiral of binging all of Sea Wolf’s albums and hearing Namjoon narrate every single song in _Cedarsmoke_ in your head. He may suck at singing, but you’d rather hear him sing more than anyone else.

You both didn’t even like the Twilight movies, but you bought and watched them because it was like a homage to the beginning of everything. Had it not been for Twilight, you’d never met Namjoon. A strange, and quite frankly, disturbing realization.

Maybe Namjoon was it for you, and you let him slip through your fingers...

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table and you startle a bit, lost in your own thoughts to realize that it’s a weekday and you have responsibilities at work still. But it’s not work, it’s a dear friend.

**Taehyungie**

\- _hey_

_\- are you busy this weekend?_

**You**

- _well, soewhat. Have a few projects right now. I’ll work half the day Saturday. Why?_

**Taehyungie**

- _I need to make a trip up there. Well we do_

**You**

\- _We??_

**Taehyungie**

\- _We have a meeting for some furniture this rich old man wants to get rid of_

\- _We as in Namjoon and I..._

**You**

\- _Oh, I see. Well if you’re coming over, I’m sure we can meet._

_\- when are you guys coming?_

**Taehyung**

\- _meeting is on Saturday but_

_\- Namjoon wants to take the opportunity to scout for other things._

_\- we’re thinking of going Friday evening to return Sunday afternoon._

**You**

\- _well we can meet after your meeting?_

**Taehyung**

\- That’d be fun, but I was actually messaging cause...

**You**

_\- Tae...?_

**Taehyungie**

\- _we need a place to crash??? It’s too late to find cheap rooms :/// plsssssssss_

_\- I’ll love you forever and ever!!!_

**You**

\- _tskkk_

_\- you already do so you can’t pay me with what you already owe me_

_\- Bring me a care package and you guys can use my futon sofa_

**Taehyungie**

_\- DEAL!!!_

\- _thankyouthankyouthabkyoythabkyi!!!_

It was inevitable that you’d look forward to the weekend. You did not even mind that Lorena handed you a proposal for a project they were transferring to your team very late into the week. Each team is allowed no more than 5 projects at a time, and this is the fourth you have at the moment. You would’ve had five had the very first project you were ever given lasted longer—but the cafe owner felt she no longer needed assistance with advertisement, the contract was not set for long term anyways.

It’s been fun, having your own team, making final decisions that have helped so many small—and a couple large—businesses thrive. However, besides the one time you’ve gone out with Dominic, your social life is almost non-existent. You go out to dinner with coworkers sometimes, but you can‘t really bring yourself to count that as a social life.

You’ve made calculations though, and if you follow your own rules, you may be able to buy a car in a few months. Then maybe you can start driving back home often to see your friends.

It’s Friday afternoon when you get a text from Taehyung saying that they’ll be at your apartment a little after you leave from work. Just enough time to catch up to them, hopefully.

When you look up from your phone, smiling, Dominic catches your eyes as he takes a seat across from you in the break room table. You’re the only two people there until a member of your team walks in to grab their food from the fridge.

“Boss,” Sarai says as they walk past you, “when we return from break can I talk to you?”

“Of course!”

They eye Dominic, who quickly looks away from Sarai as they walk past him.

“Everything okay with them?”

“Oh, uh, Sarai? Why? Did they tell you something?”

You chuckle at his reaction. You don’t think you’ve ever seen Dominic flustered before.

“Umm, no... Dominic?”

He sighs and slumps on his chair. “That’s probably what Sarai will tell you, look I-I wanted to tell you, but I thought I should wait until we went out again. Also, that’s why I’m here too, I thought maybe we could go out tomorrow night, if you don’t have any plans after work that is.”

You’d made up your mind you wouldn’t go out with Dominic, but it would have been great had you let him know too before things got this awkward. There’s something weird about letting down someone in a work environment.

“What would Sarai want to tell me about you?”

Dominic’s eye twitches as he reaches for his water bottle. “Well,” he takes a swig, “I went out with them for quite some time last year. Let’s just say they’re not very happy with me.”

Raising a brow, you too reach for the hydro flask in front of you to try and hide the smile. “You think they’re trying to warn me about you?”

Dominic flinches again and chokes a bit on his water.

“God, I hope not. Things didn’t end well between us, I was a bit of a jerk back then. I’ve changed a lot in the past year, I know it may sound strange since you only know me now.”

“A jerk, how?”

Dominic looks down at his lap, clearly embarrassed as he recalls his wrongdoings to Sarai with red cheeks. “I-It was about, uhh, about Sarai’s pronouns... I was an asshole. We didn’t go out for long, probably a month. I think they’ve warned everyone I’ve been interested in since.”

Your eyes narrow at Dominic. “Well, I’m glad you own up to the mistake and say you’ve changed, but, Dominic?”

“Yes?”

“How many people have you been interested in at work?”

His eyes go wide, and you want to laugh at how flustered he gets. “N-not many, I swear!”

Suddenly, you feel bad that he may think there is a chance with you so your smile falls. You can’t be taunting him and making him feel like he needs to excuse himself when you know for a fact there is no need for him to prove he is a nice guy.

“Dominic, I actually need to-“

“Don’t, I know this may be a lot, but just think it through, and let me know about tomorrow, okay? We can do something you like this time.” He smiles and stands, but before you can tell him there is no need, “I will leave you to eat. Have a nice lunch.” He’s out the room in seconds.

By the time you get home, Taehyung and Namjoon are waiting int the lobby. You’re quick to embrace Taehyung in the tightest hug, and when you think you’ll merely wave at Namjoon, he steps forward to wrap an arm around you. It takes you by surprise, and you find yourself gasping a little into it, but you manage to compose yourself and smile at him.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” he smiles, and it’s with dimples and all, so you find yourself grinning and trying to ignore the fire in your stomach.

“How was the trip?”

“Exhausting! Namjoon wouldn’t shut up about the view!” Taehyung grumbles as he heads towards the elevators.

“It’s beautiful!”

“It is,” you say, half laughing as you step inside, “I knew you would enjoy it. It has changed a lot. More growing fields.”

Namjoon is staring at you with a smile on his face, “Yeah, so much farming ground now. It’s not deserted.”

“Do you have food or are we ordering,” Taehyung says, interrupting whatever that was.

“Oh, you will enjoy the crafty takeout folder I created in my kitchen. Truly, the focal point.”

* * *

Any fears you had of the first night of your friends—one who happens to be the man you still love—staying over and having it be awkward were out the window when you made Namjoon laugh last night from some silly commentary. You’d all sat down to watch Zombieland—a classic and group favorite—and it was just as before. You promised to watch Train to Busan before they leave, but you’re all not prepared for the emotional strain it causes, but it’s also another group favorite. You all have a thing about zombies in the chat recently.

They both slept on the futon, but Taehyung was snoring before you had even hit the pillow, so Namjoon brought up iZombie. You don’t even remember at what time you fell asleep, but you remember the last thing Namjoon said

“Oh, to reunite with your loved one and live happily on a zombie island with adopted kiddos.”

You’d snorted when he said that, and he’d laughed too, but the first half of his statement kept lingering. Even before the alarm, you’d woken to think of just that. You turned it off however, before it went off and woke up your guests, then sneaked quietly into the bathroom.

When you step out of the shower, wrapped in a towel, you realize you forgot to bring in clothes to change into. You curse yourself right as you get the door open slowly, only to yelp when Namjoon is standing there, rubbing his eyes before panic strikes when he notices you.

“O-oh I’m so sorry, I thought you were gone, I didn’t hear the shower,” he says, voice is deep—laden with sleep—as his eyes roam your face. He’s trying not to look down, but you catch him wavering and you look away, neck warm as the blood rushes up to your cheek.

“It’s, uh, okay. Just gotta get my clothes.”

You let him use the restroom as you rush to get your clothes.

When the door opens, you stand from the bed, startled a bit when Taehyung suddenly snores loudly. Namjoon’s eyes lock with yours.

“Sorry, again.”

“Don’t worry,” you trail off, voice quiet. His hair is tousled. His pajama shirt is short sleeved so you can see his arms and the tan he’s gotten. Even from feet apart, you can smell that familiar Namjoon scent, and before you can stare longer at his neck, he steps aside so you can walk in.

You could swear you’d seen something shining around his neck, but it hid under the pajama shirt against his chest to be sure it’s what you think it is.

Once you’re dressed for work, you step out to find Namjoon by the kitchen island, drinking a coffee.

“I made you one,” he says, pushing a cup with an iced coffee forward.

With wet hair, you walk over and take it. You can’t help but smile when you take a sip and taste exactly how you like it. Hazelnut cream, no sugar. Each balanced perfectly.

“I think you make it better than me,” you whisper, the smile hard to hide.

When you look up, Namjoon is smirking, and the pit of your stomach flips.

 _Gawd, he’s so handsome._ His hair is longer and so dark brown it’s almost black. He definitely has more muscle definition since the last time you saw him. You’re not one to care for physical looks often, but it’s hard to ignore when Namjoon looks like he was created by the Greek gods themselves. He’s nothing like the skinny, lanky man you fell for, but you can’t deny the attraction you have for him is stronger now more than ever.

You already know he’s smart as hell, beautiful inside and out, but the way your body reacts to him being so close to you is borderline terrifying. It’s like it’s reminding you that you will never get over him.

His expression falls, that’s when you realize you’re frowning. It makes you sad, there’s this ache in your chest as you look at him and realize that things won’t ever go back to how they were before.

“Everything okay?”

“Um, yeah.” You look down at the coffee and the ache strengthens. If you were together, you’d thank him for the coffee with a kiss. Embrace him. Then he’d follow you to the restroom and sit on the toilet as you put on makeup and get ready for work, talking actively the entire time about something or other. Then you’d kiss him again before leaving, making sure you have the lipstick for the day in your bag because it’s the very last thing you put on so that you don’t have to worry about smudging when kissing your boyfriend in the mornings before work.

That could’ve been your daily life and not just on occasion like before.

It’s silent as you get ready for work. Namjoon sits by the kitchen island while you finish getting ready, and when it’s time for you to leave, he waves and gives you a short smile. It makes your heart ache.

Work drags on even though it’s a half day. Probably because you turn to the clock on your desk every five minutes. But even the meeting with your creative team seems longer than usual.

Finally, when 2pm rolls around, you’re practically rushing out the room and to the elevators.

A ding from your phone mirrors the ding of the elevator arriving, so you walk in without looking who joins you.

**Taehyungie**

\- _We’re here! Meet us in the lobby._

“So, what did you think?”

“Hu?” Dominic’s voice startles you a little. He’s standing next to you as he presses the button for the lobby.

“Tonight? Did you think of a location?”

“Location?”

He turns to look at you but chuckles at the expression on your face.

“My, my, what a busy woman you are. Remember? I said you could pick tonight’s destination. For our date...” he trails off, dazzling smile on.

He is handsome, that’s for sure. But he looks different today.

“You shaved.”

He chuckles. “We were in a meeting together and you didn’t notice? Must have a lot on your mind.”

“That’s for sure,” is all you a say as you place your phone back in your laptop bag. 

“So, what did you pick?” He asks again after a long silence.

The elevator dings and you wince. You’d completely forgotten to turn him down. You should probably add it to your bujo at this point.

“Actually, Dominic, I forgot to tell you—“

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re cancelling on me!” He says, rather playfully.

You smile but look away and find Taehyung standing near the doors. He’s wearing jeans, a white shirt, but that jean jacket he designed. Namjoon stands next to him, looking better than ever. He’s wearing jeans, a dark green shirt and a brown jacket. He looks taller somehow. His hair is pushed back, and when he smiles at you, all dimples, it’s like your heart jumps.

Your cheeks feel hot when you turn back to Dominic. He’s surprised to see you looking like that, but he smirks.

“If I-I recall, you’d actually asked if I was free today, and turns out I’m not. I have friends visiting from home,” you add, gesturing towards the two men.

“Oh.”

“Hey guys. This is Dominic, Account Manager here. Dominic, this is Namjoon, and Taehyung.”

“Nice to meet you,” he says, extending a hand to Namjoon.

The taller man raises his eyebrow as he shakes his hand, “Likewise.”

“Yeah, nice to meet you, man.”

“So where are you guys headed with my girl, then?”

You wince and stare at Dominic. You try not to panic, but you also can’t ignore the anger that you suddenly feel.

With an awkward chuckle, you turn to your friends, “He jokes, I was just telling him I can’t make it tonight to something.” You turn to Dominic, eyes glaring daggers, “We’re going sightseeing and to dinner.”

He only smiles, unaware of how pissed off he’s making you. “So, what do you guys do?”

“I’m an artist. I also like to design clothes and revamp them for Boss-man’s store,” Taehyung says, grinning as he slaps Namjoon’s shoulder playfully.

Namjoon laughs a bit, “Yeah, and your designs sell fast my friend. I own a thrift shop.”

“Really? So, are you here scouting?”

Namjoon frowns, “Umm sort of. We’re scouting for items, yeah.”

“Ah I see. I thought maybe for locations, but I guess it would be a little risky right now, considering the demand for thrift shops here and the fact we do have many downtown. Plus, the class of thrifts are a lot different here—a bit chicer, hip.” Dominic turns to look at you, but you find it hard to return the smile he gives you. “You should take them to the Thrift Strip, I think he’d like that street.”

“I’ll take that into consideration, Dominic. I’ll see you Monday.”

You pull them out of there before Dominic can say another word.

“What a dick!” Taehyung says as soon as you start walking away from the building.

“ _Taehyung_.”

“What Namjoon? You’re really gonna say he’s not?”

Namjoon eyes you. You sigh.

“He is, Taetae.”

“Don’t tell me you’re going out with him?”

Taehyung’s stare makes you blush.

“Once. Never again.”

“Good!”

When you turn to look at Namjoon you notice he’s looking ahead, sucking in his cheeks. He’s clearly bothered by what Dominic said, and you wish to say something to make him feel better.

You decide not to take them to the thrift shops. Instead you go out to the Science Center, the Contemporary Visual Arts Museum, and then to a light dinner at a bar and restaurant near the apartment complex.

It’s nearing 8pm when you burst through the door tossing your shoes and running to the bathroom for a bath (this time with clothes to change into prepared). When you come out, Namjoon is glaring at Taehyung as the younger boy starts shoving some stuff into his bag.

“Are you guys leaving?”

“Apparently, Taehyung is.”

“What do you mean?” You walk over to the kitchen and place the wet towel on the back of a chair by the table.

“Okay, remember Leo?”

Namjoon grumbles something before he slumps on the couch and turns the tv on.

“Uh, yeah, the guy that’s Sasha’s ex?”

“That’s him! He actually lives here four days out of the week for work—he’s a manager at the restaurant chain _Leonard’s_.”

“You’re going to go see him? But I thought things ended badly because-“

“They had! But we’ve actually been talking the past three weeks, and honestly, I like him more and more. Long story short, he surprised me right now by telling me he didn’t go back home this weekend because he knew I was coming!”

You begin walking over to Taehyung as he starts slipping on his shoes. The man looks desperate to get out of here, bag half zipped with contents slipping out. His dark hair is all over the place atop his head.

You bend down to help him with his bag as he slips on the boots.

“That’s really sweet Taehyung, but are you going to stay there?”

“Yeah,” he says, practically out of breath once he stands straight, shoes on and all. “But don’t worry, I’ll see you before we leave tomorrow, promise. Maybe we can grab lunch before we leave?’ He adds, looking at Namjoon.

Namjoon only grumbles an agreement and Taehyung grins.

“Thank you, brother!” He claps his shoulder, kisses your head, and next thing you know he is out the door.

Namjoon is obviously upset he’s been left alone with you, and honestly you weren’t prepared for it either, so you don’t even know what to think.

You sit on the couch, not close to him, and turn your attention to the tv. He found a channel showing _New Girl_ reruns. “At least you don’t have to fight him for the shower.”

Namjoon chuckles, his serious demeanor finally breaks with a smile as he looks down at the remote in his hands. “True. I should go in.”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

You try not to think about the fact that you’re alone with him while he showers and focus on Schmidt adding a dollar to the jar. It’s hard to focus however, when you hear the shower turn on, and all you can do is picture Namjoon... it doesn’t require too much imagination either, since you’ve seen him plenty of times before.

 _Stop, stop, you’re not allowed to think of him that way anymore_.

You can’t seem to shake it though. You turn off the tv and grab some water. Then pace the apartment to try to occupy your mind with anything. When the shower stops, you rush to your bed, removing the covers and grab the book on the nightstand to pretend that you were reading and not in fact trying not to picture him naked. Fifteen minutes later—of you trying to read the same page over and over—Namjoon walks out wearing those same pajamas from last night.

Today, nothing heavy had happened. Sure, he made your stomach flutter like a teenager every time he looked at you with that smile, but he didn’t stand near you, or touch you, he didn’t even have a conversation directly with you.

The remainder only makes this heaviness in your chest press down on you.

You stare at the page, thinking of nothing, and only listening as he prepares the sofa for bed. You only look up when he walks towards your bed for a pillow and the blanket under them.

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out.

He’s startled that you talked to him. “About what?”

“Dominic... he shouldn’t have said what he said.”

“Ah, don’t worry.” he walks back to the futon. “He’s probably right though. The competition here is a lot harder than back home. It’s a small town, only three thrifts in total.”

“Right, but still. He’s a jerk.”

“I guess that’s what you have left with here.”

It feels like a punch to the gut and you flinch.

“God, I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have said that-“

“No, Namjoon-“ you say, suddenly standing.

“No, I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. You’re allowed to date whoever you want.” He’s shaking his head, but he steps towards you. You notice his hands are practically twitching to reach for you, but instead he brushes his wet hair back.

“I-I’m not really dating him. He shouldn’t have called me that either.”

“Oh.” His hands fall to his side and steps forward. “But you said you went out with him...”

“Yeah. I mean. Yes. That was a date,” you look away as you admit that. You’d never imagined you’d tell Namjoon you were dating someone. “But I don’t plan on having a second.”

“Does he know?” His voice is softer, tone careful.

“Know what?” It’s almost a whisper. You step closer to him. You can smell his body wash, and his shampoo. And sandalwood. And Namjoon.

“That you don’t plan on dating him.” His eyes roam your face, but you see the way his chest rises and falls.

“Mmmh, no... not yet anyways. He can’t take a hint.”

Namjoon laughs softly and looks away. “You’re difficult to give up.” 

The words are beautiful, but like striking daggers, nonetheless. They fill you with an overwhelming emotion more than anything. When his dark eyes meet yours again, you feel like crying out, but also like collapsing into a ball on the bed.

 _You’re impossible to give up_.

Namjoon’s eyes widen and you realize you said that out loud.

“Really?” He whispers.

“Gosh,” is all you remember saying before your arms are around Namjoon’s neck and his lips are pressed on yours.

It happened so fast. One second, you’re looking at Namjoon’s vulnerable eyes, and the next it’s black and all you can feel is Namjoon’s lips on yours and your fingers in his wet hair.

His tongue is in your mouth and his hands are on your lower back, holding you tightly against him. You can feel his body press against yours on every inch of your body. It’s burning, your skin, from fingertip to toes, and you feel it call out to Namjoon’s skin. Your hands start moving down his chest, and just as you’re about to tug his shirt up, he parts the kiss.

Your eyes open and he’s staring at you, breath fanning over your own. It’s hot and the tension is high as you continue to look at each other, hands still clinging to one another. Your breaths are so loud, and you can feel your heart pounding.

“I-I’m sorry,” you start to say, but Namjoon shakes his head.

“Please,” his voice is hoarse, lips plum as he speaks from the teasing from your teeth, “don’t be. Anything but be sorry about this.”

You’re unsure of what to say next, so you nod.

His hands press softly against your back and you feel them, so warm. You tug at his shirt and Namjoon leans closer. His eyes dart between yours, unsure of his movements.

You nod once more.

He’s kissing you again.

And kissing.

And kissing.

His hands are all over your body. Suddenly they’re behind your legs as he props you up and you wrap around him. His lips are on your neck. You’re pulling at his hair. And kissing him again when you fall back on the bed and he’s crawled on top of you, body pressing against yours—where it should be.

It’s like you never parted. It’s familiar, but somehow new, because this desperation to have him and be with him is so much stronger than before that it fuels a whole new satisfaction. The satisfaction of knowing that maybe this—the way your skin burns at his touch and pulls him toward you, how he moans in response to your noises, and how your eyes can’t seem to see anything other than his—isn’t lost forever.

If this is the last time, you’re ever with Namjoon, you want it to last forever. But, there’s something in the way he whispers your name between the sheets. A desperation deep in his voice that leads you to believe this can’t be the last time.

When you’re both finally still, panting against each other, Namjoon squeezes your hand as it lays intertwined to his against the pillow. His dark eyes lock with yours before he leans down to brush his nose against yours. His hot breath hits your skin and you lean into it. With a free hand, you pull at the hair at the nape of his head and pull him closer until he’s kissing you.

It’s an innocent kiss—if a kiss can be innocent between two naked people—so soft and gentle. Lips are practically caressing each other. Then he’s shifting your bodies. You lay in front of his while you both lay on your sides. Namjoon pulls you closer and nestles his head into your neck.

“I’ve missed you...”

“So much,” you add.

* * *

Namjoon turns just in time to see you’re startled awake by the crashing sound. As your eyes open, they immediately land on Namjoon who is wincing from the kitchen in hopes that his clumsiness hasn’t completely woken you.

“Sorry...”

“What happened?” You ask, voice groggy with sleep as you pull up the blankets over your naked body.

“Dropped a pan on the floor, please go back to sleep. I’ll make breakfast.”

You chuckle and Namjoon blushes because he knows exactly what you’ll say.

“You? Breakfast? I’d like to survive a few more years without ever experiencing food poisoning.”

“I still find that hard to believe.” He turns back to the stove. “Either way, you will not be poisoned! Eggs are not difficult to scramble with some veggies.”

“You’d think!”

When Namjoon turns to your voice, he finds you walking towards him, wearing his pajama shirt. Your eyes roam his body, until they land on his chest. The necklace. When you stop next to him, you reach for it.

“You kept it.”

Namjoon turns back to the task he‘d set out for himself.

“I’d taken it off, at first. After your visit, I put it back on. I didn’t understand why though.”

“And now you do?”

Namjoon is quiet as he cracks two eggs and pours their content into a bowl. When he starts adding the chopped vegetables, he speaks again.

“Not really. I’m more confused now than I was before.”

He can feel you staring at him as he begins to mix the contents of the bowl. He wants you to say something, but he’s not sure exactly what it is he wants to hear from you.

What he does know, is that this is all up to you. You’re the one who moved away. You’re the one who broke up with him. It’s up to you where you want to go, because at this point, he will still go anywhere with you. Maybe not physically, since it’s practically impossible for him, but he is willing to try anything else.

“We should go out today, while we wait for Taehyung, what do you think?”

Namjoon’s chest rises. That’s not what he thought you would say. His inside turn when you start walking towards the restroom.

“Sure.”

When you’re out of the shower, breakfast is silent. You distract yourself with your laptop, probably answering emails, while Namjoon messages Yoongi, who opened the shop for him this weekend.

“Everything okay with the store?”

Namjoon realizes he’s frowning at his phone when he hears your voice. He schools his expression and smiles at you. “Yeah, everything is fine, just Yoongi saying he might need to open the store an hour later today. I’m asking Jin if he can go put up a sign outside the shop.”

“Ahh.”

He stands from the table and takes your empty plate with him. You look up at him and smile fondly. It makes his inside churn. Namjoon wants to lean down to kiss you, but he’s not sure he can. Not sure he should.

Just as he’s about to leave, however, your hand wraps around his wrist. You’re no longer smiling. Your eyebrows furrow as you look down at the floor for a second, before roaming up to his eyes. “Just... let me process this, and we can talk. Before you leave, yeah?”

It’s like his chest expands, and he wants to grin, but he knows better than to. This doesn’t mean it’s a positive thing, so he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Despite how wonderful last night was, what it meant for him to look into your eyes, to touch you, to love you once more like before.

It was strange, though, how strong this pull to you was. Stronger than before, perhaps caused by the distance between you. What Namjoon does know, is that his feelings for you are stronger than ever and being so close to you only to find out it could be the last time, will truly break him this time. There’s no way he can ever get over you. There’s something about you so familiar to him, yet so distant from what he knows of you. He could swear that strangeness was the fact that you touched and kissed him with as much desperation, if not more. 

“Of course, take your time.”

He moves on to shower after that, leave you to your emails. His mind is reeling. He knows he shouldn’t say anything to you as to not pressure you, but there is so much he wants to say. He wants to have a say, unlike last time. It’s his relationship too—one he wants to continue.

Namjoon shakes the thoughts out of his head and continues to get ready.

It’s 9:30 by the time you’re both ready to go. You still haven’t said where exactly you’re going, but Namjoon doesn’t question you. Actually, he hasn’t said much to you all morning, until you walk into the elevator and you reach for his hand.

“Is this okay?” you ask, your voice just above a whisper.

“It’s perfectly fine,” he assures with a short smile. He squeezes your hand in his. If he knew where you are romantically, he would’ve brought your hand to his lips and kissed it.

He doesn’t say anything again until he follows you into the Uber and you confirm the address with the driver.

“We’re going to the thrift shops?”

With a smile, you nod. Still holding his hand, you squeeze his fingers. “I haven’t been, so I hope it’s as nice as people say. Maybe you can find some items.”

The thrifts aren’t right next to each other, they spread out for about four blocks, restaurants, bars, and coffee shops in between. The one that catches Namjoon’s attention is one that reminds him of his own shop. It has three entrances, each for a separate part of the shop that look completely different form one another. If you looked at it without paying attention, you’d think it was three different stores. They connect at one register department, and have a single name sign with subcategories—fashion, home, miscellaneous. It’s exactly how Namjoon has his shop separated, not as polished and not with such architecture. The owner chose carefully how to design the shop, something that the previous owner of Kim Thrift did not, so now Namjoon has to work twice as hard to turn it into the kind of shop he wants to have someday.

“It’s similar to your sketches,” you say, looking up at the building and the neon signs.

“Yeah.”

“Not as cool though,” you say, pushing his shoulder slightly, “you want to add a little coffee shop and bookstore,” you add in a whisper.

Namjoon grins. It gives him such satisfaction that you remember those silly sketches he drew years ago. It’s still a dream of his, but he knows it will take a long time.

For the first time since leaving your place, you let go of his hand to walk inside. Namjoon doesn’t mind as he heads in a different direction from you. He heads straight to the entertainment. It’s not for about a half hour that you find him still going through some books. He’s picked out some CDs and vinyl’s, but wants to take some books.

“My grandmother told me you called her, about the books I mean.”

“Oh yea, is that okay?”

“Of course. I said that you could have them.”

“I ended up keeping some for myself, actually.”

You laugh a little and squeeze his arm.

He’s about to say something when his phone starts ringing. It’s Taehyung.

“Hey bro. I’m about to leave Leo’s place. He’s headed home too because he switched his schedule. He offered to give us a ride if we pitch in for gas. How does that sound?”

“Oh, that sounds great actually. We’re at a thrift shop so I found some items I want to take with me.”

“Perfect! Let’s all meet for lunch in an hour or so, you guys pick the location and we’ll meet you there.”

The rest of the hour before lunch is spent shopping in different thrifts. Mostly in silence, but Namjoon does find himself laughing with you eventually as you walk into the last shop he decided to visit. You’re telling him about your coworker Lorena, and how every day she reminds you more of Taehyung.

“She loves astrology, so she’s really into the whole ‘I’m a cap, sag rising,’ and stuff. I think she and Taehyung would be great friends. I hope someday you all get to meet her.”

“She sounds like she’ll fit right in.”

You smile up at him and it makes his heart skip. Namjoon reaches for your hand and intertwines your fingers. You’re watching him carefully, a soft smile on your lips. He decides to brave it and brings your intertwined hands to his lips. He presses a soft kiss to your hand. Your smile grows and he could swear your eyes begin to glisten, but you look away and to the store before he can really see.

This gesture is something Namjoon used to do often—especially when you first started dating—so he can only imagine what must be going through your head. It’s going through his head too. He wants all of this back. You talking to him about work, hearing your laugh, your hand in his, and your eyes on him. Just you. He wants you back and Namjoon doesn’t think he can hold on much longer without saying it out loud.

“Maybe we should get going, to meet Taehyung. I told him we’d meet at the Italian place in the first block. Is that okay?”

Namjoon pretends not to see you wipe at your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Let’s go.”

The thrift shop forgotten, Namjoon beings to walk with you, hand in hand.

Nerves start to boil up inside him. As the restaurant nears, Namjoon realizes he needs to say something before Taehyung shows up. He needs to know what’s going to happen.

You’re seated outside. The restaurant is full inside so Namjoon welcomes the ironic privacy of sitting out in the open. You sit across from him, which he is thankful for. He needs to be looking at you when he brings it up.

Once drinks and appetizers are brought over and he tells the waiter there’s two more people in your party joining in a while, he’s finally alone with you.

“So,” he starts, taking a sip from his iced tea, “last night...”

You freeze, then clear your throat. “Yes?”

Namjoon’s skin tingles with nerves. He’s anxious to know what you think, but also scared it may not be what he is thinking. “Well, was it, just sex?”

You’re clearly surprised by his bluntness, almost choking on your drink. Your eyes widen as you meet his gaze. Namjoon is sure you can see the seriousness in his expression.

“O-of course not, Joon.”

Joon. You called him that last night, several times. It makes his skin alight.

“Okay, good. The same for me.”

“Good.”

“So what now?”

You sigh, then look away from him to stare out at the street visible between the gates that separate the terrace to the public. You watch the people walking through Main Street half a block away and hear the sounds of the city. “I live here, you live back home.”

“I’ve noticed you keep calling it ‘home,’ do you ever plan on going back?” He was afraid of asking this question, but it’s one he wanted the answer to from the day you left.

You shrug. “I can’t be sure. The company has many branches, but there is just no guarantee that I could ever be transferred as a creative director back home. I’d love to, but I can’t say I will.”

“So, you could end up making this place your home?”

The way your eyebrows furrow and your lips part feel like he’s being prickled with tiny needles. The idea of you finding this place and staying forever hurts him more than not being with you. He fears if you stay here, he may even lose any friendship left between you. But Namjoon wants you to be happy, so if you say yes, he’ll have to endure it.

“I-I don’t think so,” you whisper. When you look up, Namjoon immediately goes for your hand on the table. The way your eyes fill with tears makes his heart hurt. “I miss home. I miss everyone. But I-“ you look up to find his eyes and Namjoon watches as a tear rolls down your cheek. “I miss you the most.”

He doesn’t want to say anything because he can see you want to say more. He merely squeezes your hand.

“I thought maybe the distance and months would help me, you know. Get over you, over us. And maybe it doesn’t help that we’re friends and have communication in the chat, but I really didn’t care. I didn’t care to put my heart at risk in those chats and see your messages, your tweets, your photos. I wanted to see you and hear from you because I love you, Namjoon. I love you so much. whenever I think of home, I think of you. I think of us.”

You pause to breathe and wipe at your eyes with a napkin Namjoon hands you.

“You have no idea how much I’ve beat myself up about us not moving in. It’s torture knowing how things could’ve been. But I can’t change the fact that I got a promotion, and I have no idea when, or if I will ever move back home.” Your voice becomes strain the more you speak, so heavy with emotion that he thinks you might begin crying again.

Namjoon blinks and he realizes his eyes are also filling with tears. A ball of emotion lodges in his throat, and he’s glad you’re talking because he’s not sure he can talk right now. 

“So, I don’t’ know Namjoon. I have no idea what to make of last night, much less of tomorrow. I know I did wrong in not speaking to you before breaking things off, and I don’t want.... I want to—no, I need to know how you feel now, and what you want, because I just don’t know what to do.”

Reluctantly, Namjoon lets go of your hand to wipe at his face. He clears his throat and nods.

“I know, I know it’s hard. It was hard for me when you left, but I can imagine it was ten times harder for you—leaving your family, and friends, not just me. I lost you, but you lost distance with everyone. Everyone was hurting, so I felt like I couldn’t just go in and complain about my pain because everyone was feeling somewhat the same.

“The only thing that kept me going was knowing we may still be friends, but I knew that would never be enough for me. I thought I was gaining so much more after that night, only to find out I was losing all of you. It was awful. And yes, I was angry with you for not talking to me first,” he realizes he’s not looking at you, so he does. There’s a look on your face that tugs at his heartstrings. He can see the regret in your eyes, but he can’t keep how you hurt him to himself anymore. “That hurt me so much. I even thought I should hate you, but I couldn’t. I don’t think I ever will, no matter what happens, because my feelings for you are so deep, sometimes I can’t explain them.”

Your eyes are sparkling but attentive more than anything else.

“When you left,” he begins fiddling with the sleeve of his jacket, “it was like part of me was gone. Something that was not originally mine but had become part of me. It was so fucking strange, because I would go to my apartment that felt empty when you had never even moved in. Somehow, you took something from there too.”

You let out a little sob and Namjoon practically jumps. It hurts him so much to see you like this. He walks over and sits next to you, bringing you into his arms to embrace you.

“It wasn’t until you said it just now, that I realize what it is. You’re my home too. When I think of home, you are part of it, and you took it with you, and I didn’t know what to do.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you,” you say, muffled by your sobs and his jacket.

Namjoon brushes your hair and your back, and he pulls you closer to him. “Don’t. I forgive you. I know it’s what you felt at the time you needed to do.”

You pull back from his embrace and find his eyes. You cup his face. “I don’t think I can go back to not being with you, but I’m scared.”

“Me too.” He wraps his fingers around your wrists and takes your hands in his. “I don’t want to go back either. Let’s just, take it slow okay. Let‘s just try to communicate more. I’ll see what I can do.”

“I can visit.”

“Me too. We’ll figure it out.” Namjoon brushes hair out of your face and leans forward to brush his lips against yours, softly and sweetly. The kiss is filled with tender thoughts as he cups your face and pulls you closer. “I don’t want to lose you completely,” he mumbles into the kiss.

“I knew if I left you two alone, you’d be jumping each other’s bones ASAP,” Taehyung says from somewhere behind Namjoon.

The kissing stops abruptly, and it’s not difficult to be embarrassed that Taehyung and his boyfriend found Namjoon kissing you and you almost sitting on his lap.

The lunch, luckily, goes with no mention of the scene Taehyung and Leo walked in on, but Namjoon’s mind is reeling with it. He catches you looking at him several times. Halfway through the meal, he finds his hand on your lap intertwined with your fingers. It’s probably obvious to Taehyung and Leo, but they seem to be doing the same thing.

When it’s time to head back to your apartment to get Namjoon’s things, you’re eerily quiet, but practically attached to Namjoon the whole ride.

You’re quiet when you follow him upstairs and watch him get his stuff. You’d said your goodbyes to Taehyung downstairs, but now it’s Namjoon.

Namjoon walks up to you and cups your cheek with his empty hand while the other is occupied with his bags.

“I’ll call you when we get there, okay.”

You nod, eyes a bit wide and glistening. “Okay. Have a safe drive.”

“Thank you,” is all he says before he leans down for another tender kiss. You lean into him and let out a little sound that causes Namjoon to mimic it, in a lower register.

“I love you, too,” he whispers before walking out. If he allowed himself, he might’ve just dropped his bags and continued to kiss you for much, much longer.

* * *

It becomes eerily similar to when you first began dating Namjoon. A lot of flirting back and forth through messages and social media, except you’re already in love and missing each other like lovesick teenagers. It’s strange though, how he is yet to call you his girlfriend and vice versa. The title seems silly somehow, like you’re past that, but of course he would be your boyfriend...

_Right?_

It’s weeks later, almost a month, when Namjoon makes a visit. You’ve managed to convince yourself to ask him this weekend. There’s a sort of fear that springs inside you, because if he’s your boyfriend what does that mean for your relationship in the long run? You know he might be ready to ask that again, but you still are unsure. Of course, you want to be in a committed relationship, you love him, but you also live so far away. Is he willing to wait and see where this job takes you, or could he get tired of waiting for you to come home?

He came with you to grocery shop, and he’s going on about which bag of chips is better with jalapeño cheese dip when you’re trying to find the words to ask him. Maybe the grocery store is not the best spot for such a conversation. Then again, you practically got back together while sitting in a restaurant. The reality of that did not dawn on you until later, but you were glad the restaurant’s open terrace wasn’t disturbed by people walking by. A grocery store, however, is much less private.

Your phone dings and your stomach drops when you see the notification.

Dominic was away for two weeks on a business trip, and the last time you talked to him he had apologized about the things he said in front of Namjoon, but you’d made it your business to ignore him at work the past week.

**Dominic**

_\- i know you’re ignoring me because you’re still upset with me_

_\- but i promise i didn't mean any harm by it! I was just being honest about thrift shops here._

_\- as for the whole “my girl” thing, can you blame a guy for trying?_

\- _let’s go out tonight for some drinks and we can talk. I really want to make this work._

“Why is this guy still hitting on my girl?”

Namjoon’s playful tone makes your neck hot and cheeks flush. You look up to find him staring at your phone from behind you.

“Sorry, baby, I didn’t mean to read your texts, but you didn’t answer about which chips you prefer.” His dimpled smile makes you grin and makes your stomach flip.

 _Gosh, he’s perfect_.

“What should I tell him?”

Namjoon taps his chin and pretends to be pensive. “Hmm, well maybe we can make it to drinks after dinner.”

“Joon!” You playfully slap his arm.

“Alright, okay, not the chips please,” he giggles as he pulls his arm away from your wrath. “Tell him, ‘I don’t think my boyfriend, Namjoon, would like me getting drinks with the man who can’t get a hint’.”

“Harsh, but I like it.”

You word it differently, but that’s essentially what you tell Dominic and hope he stops annoying you. When you catch up to Namjoon, you pull him down to plant a kiss on his cheek, which he returns with a kiss on your lips.

* * *

There’s no way you can describe this long-distance relationship as perfect. Sometimes you can’t make it to visit Namjoon, and sometimes he can’t make it to yours. You fight, like most couples, but they usually result in soft conversations over the phone. Communication with Namjoon is a lot better than before—not perfect because you’re still you and sometimes suck at being honest right away with him, but you do eventually express yourself. Namjoon is understanding, to say the least, but he sometimes doesn’t like to let out his frustrations with you either, which can be a little bump in the road at times.

However, you feel more connected to him than you did before you moved away. It’s hard not to feel bad about not considering a long-distance relationship before moving. You have to keep reminding yourself that you needed that break, to figure out what you really wanted, and if you could handle something like this.

Before, you thought you couldn’t have both—a career and a stable relationship—and although neither is perfect, it does not erase the fact that you’re happy.

You could be happier though, and you feel that happiness nearing soon, hopefully.

Namjoon is sitting at the usual table at the bar already, alone just how you’d planned before all your friends arrive.

“Hey, how was the trip?”

“It was fine. Slept most of the train ride,” you say, then kiss Namjoon sweetly on the lips then sit next to him. “I’ve got news.”

“Really?” He seems uninterested as he drapes an arm around you and leans his nose down to your cheek, brushing it against your skin.

You giggle, then playfully push him but he doesn’t budge, only leans closer to kiss your neck. “Joon, I’m serious!”

“Okay, okay, you just smell so good.”

“You do too.” You add, kissing his chin. He really does. “I had a meeting today with the CEO.”

“Oh.” His demeanor changes a bit. His arm is still around you, but he reaches for his drink and takes a long sip. “Alright, I’m ready.”

“Joonie, is nothing bad!” You insist. Your hand comes up to tug at the necklace hanging from his neck to get his attention. “They told me the branch here just had their creative director transferred to the coast branch.”

Namjoon turns, eyes a bit wide. “Wait, really?”

You nod, smiling as Namjoon breaks into a grin. “Lorena was offered account manager transfer here and she said she would not transfer without me. A little dramatic, I told her, but also, bless her beautiful soul.”

“Is she single, I might marry her.” He’s all smiles and dimples when you tug at the necklace playfully. “So, you said yes, right.”

“Well, actually, I haven’t yet...”

“Why not.” His eyebrows furrow, then he removes his arm from around you. “What happened?”

“Nothing’s happened, don’t worry. I just... I didn’t want to say yes without knowing for sure that I have a place to live in.”

“What do you mean- Oh, are you,” Namjoon is quiet, staring wide eyed at your smile. His eyes are darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes, trying to figure out what you want to say before you say it.

“Yeah, I wasn’t sure if my boyfriend would want me to move in.”

He’s bouncing in his seat and before you know it, he’s kissing you. “Are you crazy,” he mumbles between the kiss, making you laugh, “of course I do.” He kisses you again and again.

Somehow you end up on his lap—not in an inappropriate way, of course. Your arms wrap around his neck and Namjoon looks up at you, eyes sparkling with love and happiness.

“I know it’s a little crazy, and it’s been like four months since then, but I actually left space in the closet for you.”

You kiss his forehead and have a little noise escape your lips in tenderness for him. “I noticed, baby. I’ve already taken over the drawer and the shelves in the bathroom, but I think I might need a little more space.”

“I’ll throw everything out!”

You can’t help but giggle and slap his chest playfully. “We can get bigger cabinets, instead?”

“Perfect.”

Then he’s kissing you again.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking about adding some extra social media edits on my tumblr (mikrksmos) if you're interested.


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